TIME BETWEEN US
by GerrysJackie
Summary: E/OW, time travel. After Christine denies him her hand in marriage, Erik sets out to make a new life for himself. He never counted on meeting a scientist who would change his life forever; or finding a world he could actually call home.
1. Chapter 1

Hello, my dear readers.

It is good to be back, I hope you have missed me. This is a rather different story for me, as it involves time travel. If that is not your cup of tea, than don't read...it's your choice. I have had wonderful tidbits fed to me by my superb friend and beta, Mlle.Fox as well as some ideas I have picked on - here and there - from those who diligently read and review my stories.

Once again, I am truly humbled that you take the time to read what I write, it really does mean a great deal to me.

This is an Erik/original woman story; it starts out in 1872 Paris, but ends up in 2007 Colorado. I have never attempted anything like this before, so we will discover - together - if I am capable of doing it justice.

The story is movie based, but the later part of the movie never occurred for the sake of my storyline.

So, without further delay, I bring you,

TIME BETWEEN US

By GerrysJackie

An original, modern day story,

featuring some of the characters from Gaston Leroux's

"_Phantom of the Opera_"

Erik Tremeur Marchand (Gerry Butler) – 15 when found by Madam Giry, 18 when Christine first meant him, 27 when Christine breaks his heart, 30 when he meets Randi.

Bernadette Giry – 23 when she found Erik

Miranda (Randi) Christine Willows – 26 when she meets Erik (resembles a young Reba McEntire)

Erik is eight years older than Christine, four years older than Randi.

Part I

Erik's Story

CHAPTER 1

_May, 1872_

He paced the floor with fretful energy; growing more uncertain of himself with every step he took. Tonight was it – he would seal his fate; for nine years he had watched her grow out of the tall, lanky, awkwardness of an adolescent, in to the elegant, slender, confident woman with whom he had fallen hopelessly in love; tonight, he would leave himself vulnerable to her – bearing his soul.

She had come to him as a shy ten-year-old girl – orphaned and alone – with only Madam Giry and her energetic daughter, Meg, to confide in. He had been a socially inept, emotionally stunted, and an academically and artistically gifted eighteen-year-old boy on the brink of manhood.

Bernadette Giry had been desperate to find some way of drawing Christine out of her environmentally induced shell. Nothing had worked so far – the child was practically catatonic most of the time; and had been, ever since the death of her father months earlier.

One day, not long after she had arrived at the opera house, Christine stumbled upon a young man in a remote part of the opera house – far away from everyone. He was not aware of her presence and sat at a rickety, old piano just staring aimlessly at the motionless keys. After a moment, his fingers began to move over them with such soft assurance, and his voice spread through the corridors of the opera house, filling them with the most exquisite sound; Christine was immediately mesmerized.

She remained hidden, listening to every song he played and every word he sang; before long, her burdened soul and weeping heart began to mend – just from the power of his music. She had not experienced such peace since her father's calming voice had lured her to sleep at night. The young girl was enraptured and began slowly easing her way toward him.

A heavy foot and raucous laughter interrupted the heavenly sound; Christine heard a stage hand approaching – that bothersome Bouquet again. She turned to inform the young man that he had nothing to fear – but he had disappeared without a trace. Before long, Christine began to think she had imagined him…but her spirit assured her that she had not.

Madam Giry was not only her instructor in dance, but was also the only mother figure she had known. It was only natural that Christine confide in her; asking any questions she had about the mysterious figure she was certain she had seen.

Surprisingly, Madam Giry knew the young man well.

"His name is Erik Marchand, he is eighteen, and I have known him for about three years now."

Looking far too mature for a girl of ten, Christine sat quietly – contemplating her next question. She was overtly curious, but at the same time she did not want to appear too eager to know more about him.

"Does he work here – for the opera house?"

Madam Giry smiled sincerely, finding it odd that Erik had allowed himself to be seen. He seldom ventured past the second level of the below ground floors; preferring to remain hidden from the world. She had chastised him on many occasions, telling him that would be impossible for him to find friends or love if he did not meet people; Christine had come along and proved her wrong.

"Yes, in a way – he composes much of the music that is used in many of the operas, and he helps design sets and costumes – and he is compensated generously for his talents and opinions."

Erik was not widely recognized among the crew and performers, but they all respected his genius despite his absence. They knew he was the best authority on music, design, and performance – but no one understood why – he was supposedly very young, had no formal training, and was a complete mystery to everyone. No one would know him if they passed him in the halls…except for the mask.

Bernadette continued, "Erik is a rather unique individual, Christine. Until he was fifteen, he lived with a band of traveling gypsies. He was a slave to them – a piece of property - and they abused him in many ways."

Christine's eyes took on a shocked look, and she felt tears welling up, "But why…he was just a child?"

There was so much to tell, but Christine was far too young to understand the heinous reasons behind Erik's abuse. "Because he is different, child…that is all I can say."

Bernadette hated the way the words sounded coming from her. Yes, he was different; not many people had a horrible, branding-type scar that obliterated the shape of their right cheek. A scar that she knew had not been natural…someone had intentionally marred his perfect features when he was just an infant. The scar was old, puckered, and in the shape of a "D".

The story she had heard in whispered tones was that the gypsies had found him in rather strange, unexplainable circumstances…they only thing they could do was brand him a tool of the devil and try to burn the demon from his soul. There was never a mention of his mother or father…and Bernadette could only imagine what Erik's origins truly were.

The story had disturbed Christine for weeks. Her sleep had been wrought full of horrible images and agonizing screams for help. Bernadette spent endless nights rocking her to sleep and humming soft melodies into her ears.

Through the normal course of time, Erik and Christine became good friends; although Erik was eight years older than her, he was as innocent as she was in many ways. Once Bernadette had opened his mind to the wonders of learning, there had been no stopping him. He taught himself math, languages, history, science, economics – anything and everything – he was a genius in all areas. He was a natural musician with a voice that could make the angels cry. Bernadette encouraged that side of him and soon, there were few in the world of music that could rival him. However, he knew nothing of people and relationships – all he knew was abuse and hatred, starvation and filth – it was Christine, a ten-year-old girl, who showed him unparalleled kindness, unconditional love, and the warmth of smile.

For Erik, that friendship was salvation; he began to thrive within the sunshine that Christine provided. She willingly spent time with him, not caring about the ugliness of his face or the filth that resided within his soul. With the safety and sanctity of her friendship, Erik stopped wearing the dreadful mask and allowed those who were closest to him to know what he looked like.

It was when she turned sixteen that Erik realized she was a creature of rare beauty. He had adored women and longed for the touch of a one for years now, but he knew there would never be one that could see him for anything other than the monster he had been branded…until Christine. She genuinely cared about him and spent time with him, perhaps if he wooed her as a woman should be wooed, she would allow him to marry her.

And so it began. He spent the next two years doing all that he knew to do to win her heart. He wrote her arias and sonnets; he showed her the many pictures he had painted of her; he made her trinkets with the labor of his hands and basked in the shimmering beauty of her smile as she admired his handiwork. He taught her to sing with the angels and gave her the gift of his genius.

Things had been going so well, until _he_ came and ruined it all, with his handsome, whole face, his posh title, and heavy pockets. Christine had been awestruck, and Erik felt the first pangs of jealousy. What did he have to offer her? A ruined face, no title – he was lucky he knew his name - and no money; that's what – and what woman would settle for such things.

Viscount Raoul DeChangy – no name aroused such loathing or jealousy in Erik as that name; the perfect son of the perfect parents, with a perfect brother and a perfect sister; all living in a perfect world. It was enough to make him sick.

He finished tying his cravat and took a long, assessing look at himself in the mirror…he hated mirrors…but for now, he would allow his monstrous reflection to look back at him so that he could assure himself that he looked the best he could for her.

Tonight was the night – tonight he would profess his undying love and devotion to her; prove to her that he was a man and not a monster. A soft knock on the door stopped his pacing and he opened it wide. Standing on the other side, looking very much like the angel he thought her, stood Christine.

Erik slowly caressed her porcelain skin with his eyes, adoring the perfection that she chose freely to share with him. She stepped forward, into his strong embrace, and placed a tender kiss upon his flawed cheek.

Her eyes lit up when she saw the intimate table setting he had arranged for them, and the chilling bottle of champagne. The meal was hot and generous, and Christine was more than ready to eat.

"Erik, you know me so well…I never eat well during the last week of rehearsals." She kissed him again, leaving Erik completely breathless from the attention. "Thank you." She said as she sat down at the table and began eating.

Erik sat across from her, enjoying the fact that she was enjoying the food he had prepared. She had suddenly become this magnificent creature – transforming into a woman of incredible beauty and poise before his astonished eyes. His mind had barely had a chance to realize she was no longer a child, before his body started making demands that were embarrassing to him.

He suddenly felt foolish, thinking she would accept his proposal…why would such a woman want a less-than-perfect man as her husband?

Shaking the intruding and derogatory thoughts from his mind, Erik focused on his goal. They had known each other for nine years and he wanted more – he only prayed she wanted the same.

They shared a stimulating conversation as they enjoyed the meal, and Erik had never felt more at ease with her. This was how it was supposed to be, he was certain of that. They would share a rich life together – rich in love, rich in music, rich in laughter – and children – he wanted children more than he was willing to admit.

"Christine…" Erik's voice was sultry and low, drawing her eyes to his. "There is something I wish to ask you."

He slipped to his knee beside her chair and pulled the small silk box from his lapel pocket. He pulled the top open, revealing the handcrafted, diamond ring within. Christine's hand went to her mouth and her eyes were as big as saucers.

"Christine…" Erik closed his eyes to continue, fearing he would lose his nerve if he looked at her, "…I love you. In the years that we have known each other, you have become the air that I breathe and the beat of my heart. I cannot imagine living without you."

He took a deep breath and opened his eyes, allowing them to slowly drift upward to meet hers. She was as white as a sheet and there was something unusual in her eyes; if Erik did not know better, he would swear that she was hiding something from him. However, he chose to ignore the sinking feeling in his soul.

"Christine, will you do me the honor of marrying me?"

She continued to stare at him for a moment, rose to her feet and shook her head. Her furrowed brow indicated her confusion, and she stepped back from him – avoiding his touch.

"I could never marry you, Erik…" She finally said, "…I do not feel that way about you."

Had he just imagined the disgust in her voice and the terror in her eyes…his demons told him he had not. Humiliated and broken, he heard nothing more; he simply stood up, tucked the ring back into this pocket…and left.

۞۞۞۞

He went to the roof of the opera house, standing as still and lifeless as the gargoyle statues that stood guard over him. The snow fell; covering him in a pure sheet of white, but doing nothing to cleanse the wickedness that he was certain flooded his soul – of course she could not love him, he was unlovable.

Tears no longer flowed from the eyes that had once been filled with hope and love; he felt the anger and betrayal welling up within him – leaving nothing but bitterness behind. He had no idea how long he stood there…the footprints he had left in the snow faded to nothing and he did not even realize that he shivered profusely from the cold.

The utter dismay in her eyes was all that stayed with him as he wandered the opera house in search of something – anything – that would forever end the agonizing ache in his chest. Carving his heart out with a spoon sounded effective enough; however, he knew that death was too good for him.

Had she always felt that way about him? He began reliving every moment he could recall that he had spent with her…and he realized the look in her eyes had never held the one thing he longed for the most – romantic and eternal love.

He wanted to disappear; simply fade away with the last remnants of his hope and never be seen or heard again. At that moment, his heart could have ceased to beat and he would have been happier than he had ever been.

But something drove him…and he wished he knew what it was so that he could stamp it out once and for all. Instead, he wandered the opera house in search of a haven; a sanctuary where he could think about what the future held for him, and why Christine would not be a part of that future.

Bernadette searched for hours, and finally found him – nestled perilously on the back of one of the gargoyles adorning the roof. He had been missing for hours and she was certain he was not in a functional frame of mind.

"Erik, come down from there and talk to me."

He did not react to her voice, nor seem to hear anything she said. She shivered in the cold, but cast a heated glare his way. When he refused to move, she threw her arms in the air and chided him again.

"Do not make me come up there after you…my skirts will only hinder me and I shall plummet to my death on the sidewalk below."

She could tell by the dashed look he gave her that he had been contemplating that very act; and it terrified her. Just as she was about to climb up to meet him, Erik stood and gracefully made his way down to her. She reached for his gloved hand to help him down, and was surprised to see him recoil from her touch.

"What happened...you have not pulled from my touch in a very long time?"

The tug at his heart made him want to rip it out of his chest…what was it worth to anyone? He shoved his hands through his tousled, shoulder length, black hair – the white contrasting snow billowed from it like ashes from a fire. He landed safely on the surface of the roof and stood tall and foreboding before her; but the hollow ache in his eyes told the real story.

"She could not even look me in the eyes and tell me no…" his tone was filled with amused sarcasm as he tried desperately to make sense of it all, "…there was disbelief and disgust in her eyes, Bernadette – like I was some sort of depraved monster bent on molesting her."

Bernadette suspected the reason why, but could not speculate to Erik…he would not handle it well; he would probably never handle it well.

"Why?" He asked; looking to Bernadette for answers he was not sure he wanted.

Everything within her told her to keep silent, but her friendship and love for Erik prevented her from keeping him wondering in the darkness of uncertainty any longer.

"He came back, Erik…remember the Count and Countess DeChangy, their two sons, Philip and Raoul, and their daughter, Juliette?"

Erik did remember them; they had been a few years older than Christine when he had meant them. Philip was the oldest at twenty-five, then Raoul at twenty-two, and the sister came in last at eighteen.

Christine, Meg, and Juliette had been best friends; hardly a day had gone by that they did not spend every waking minute together. Erik had learned more about giggly females and their opinions about everything from those three and their late-night talks, than from any other source available to him.

A sinking, dreadful feeling filled Erik's heart and he looked at Bernadette, not wanting to hear what she had to say, but knowing that he could not move on if he did not.

"Raoul is back…and he has claimed her."

He did not pose it as a question; the echo in his heart gave him the answer before he could form the question in his mind. Christine had been enamored with Raoul from the beginning. His straight, sandy blond hair was the epitome of fashion; his laughing hazel eyes were bright and full of promise, and he was a nobleman. Erik had been so relieved when the family had moved away, although Christine had been hard to console for several weeks. She eventually seemed to have forgotten about him and Erik had quickly moved in to gain her affections.

Not wanting to witness the young, handsome couple in a clandestine moment, Erik left Bernadette with a heavy heart and headed for the roof again, assuring her he would not destroy himself; he only needed solitude and silence. It seemed like hours later that he heard the door opening behind him and he hid behind the gargoyle, not wanting to speak to anyone just yet.

He need not have worried; the young couple emerging through the door was not there to talk to anyone – they were there to find solitude in each others arms.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

Thank you for the great start on reviews...it was appreciated very much.

To clear a few things up, let me say that there is really nothing in common with the events of the movie, book, or musical. The movie characters (representation) are the only thing I am borrowing. (Gerry Butler as Erik, Emma Rossum as Christine - although older), and Miranda Richardson as Bernadette Giry). Meg is a little younger in this story, so I have not based her off the movie version.

Erik has suffered greatly, and was exposed to the Gypsies for a much longer period of time than the movie showed (until the age of 15), so the things that were done to him by them were forever imprinted into his mind.

His "scars" are the result of a form of branding done to him by the gypsies...if I didn't make that clear enough. I apologize if that is the case.

Anyway...on we go.

TIME BETWEEN US

CHAPTER 2

They stood in the falling snow, her back against his chest and his arms around her. They were oblivious to the cold, caring only that they had this time together.

"I just do not love him that way." Christine explained, trying to bring herself to an understanding as well as Raoul.

"Christine, it will be fine…Erik cannot seriously think that you would love him, let alone marry him."

He had not meant for it to sound as uncaring as it did; she looked at him with narrowed eyes filled with tears of regret.

"How dare you….Raoul; you are his friend, why would you say such a thing?"

He cringed at the bitterness in her tone, "You misunderstand what I mean. You and he have been like brother and sister for nine years, he must realize that you see him as a brother, not a lover." He explained, as he ran his knuckles down the soft, downy surface of her cheek.

Christine slowly moved her hand to her trembling lips and looked at Raoul with guilty tears, "I froze before him, Raoul…" she closed her eyes and forced the warmth of the tears onto her chilled skin, "…what a fool I was. I told him I could never marry him…" she turned from him to move through the door, "…but I never explained why or the true feelings that I do have for him.

She pulled away even further, "I must find him."

Raoul captured her arm before she could leave, "Christine, you must calm yourself before you talk to him, you are almost hysterical."

Erik only heard a word every now and then, when it drifted on the soft breeze toward his ears. He had heard enough to deduce that Christine did not love him, and never would. He waited a few more minutes until he was certain they were gone, and then he left the roof of the opera house, never to return.

He went directly to his small room and gathered as many belongings as he could in his satchel and on his being; he penned a letter, explaining what he was doing, and quietly left: his room, the opera house, their lives, and France.

Christine went all the places she would normally find Erik, frantically searching for him. The incident was still weighing heavily on her mind, and she wanted to explain her behavior to him; that she had not rejected him; she loved him as a brother. Somewhere out there was a woman for him, a woman that would give him the kind of love he deserved; he just needed to allow himself to be found.

"Madam Giry…" Christine happened to see the older woman as she was headed toward the main theater, she stopped abruptly upon hearing Christine's frenzied tone, "…have you seen Erik…I need to speak with him?"

"The last time I saw him he was headed for his room….have you tried there?"

She nodded that she had.

"Did you go in, he may be reading or concentrating on something and did not hear you?"

They both headed back for Erik's room, while Christine explained everywhere that she had been. Bernadette thought it strange that Erik was in none of those places, but he was quite the ghost when he chose to be.

They knocked quietly on his door, expecting to hear a disgruntled reply; he hated to be interrupted when he was concentrating on composing or anything else. However, there was not even a stirring coming from within the room.

Bernadette tried the door, and it easily opened to her. They proceeded into the dimly lit room and immediately noticed that the room looked too perfect. Upon further inspection, they found that his wardrobe was empty. He had never had too many clothes, but the ones he did have were gone.

Christine felt a swelling of panic in her chest, seconded only by the regret that accompanied it. Her eyes searched her surroundings for any sign that her mentor and friend still remained, but with each passing moment, doubt won over.

Bernadette sat on the edge of the bed, staring at a piece of parchment that had been lying on the pillow.

"He is gone, Christine." Her voice was barely a whisper as she read the words aloud.

_"Bernadette, My Friend, _

_My time has come full circle and I must move on. You have been the one person in my life that recognized something in me other than a monster; for that, I will forever be grateful._

_Long ago, I made a promise to myself that I would never be a prisoner again; but I allowed myself to desire the same love and life that a normal person can have – thinking that a woman could see a man in me worth loving – I see, now, the folly of such thinking. I foolishly became a prisoner of love, although I suppose it is closer to obsession, and shattered the illusion Christine had of me. She is as terrified of me as any other woman would be, and I beg her forgiveness for what I have done. _

_To escape further embarrassment, I have left __France__, never to return. I wanted you to know that you will always have a place in the heart that I have often thought I did not have, and I only ask that you think of me fondly – now and then._

_I wish Christine and Raoul happiness beyond words, I truly do. May she finally have the family she has so desperately wanted with a man worthy of her and her love._

_God speed, _

_Erik"_

"Oh Erik….I am so sorry..." Christine cried – more to herself than anyone, "…it is all so untrue." She continued to wander aimlessly around the room, searching for anything that might tell her where he had gone.

Bernadette had not sensed from Erik his need to leave; he had seemed disturbed, naturally, but he was in control of what she knew was a flurry of distressing and debilitating emotions. However, now that she thought back on it, he had been eerily calm after being confronted with Christine's true feelings.

"He left, without even saying good-bye…" Christine quietly wept, standing in the middle of Erik's former room with her arms around herself, "…I will never have the chance to explain my actions or make things right with him."

Bernadette felt only numbness, realizing he had left her too. And what of the opera house, Erik's brilliant compositions and exceptional designs could not be duplicated…how would it survive?

"I suppose he presumed – however incorrectly – that no one would miss him."

Bernadette's words cut into Christine, leaving her emotions raw and open. She had purposely ignored the telltale signs of Erik's growing attachment to her. He had never tried to hide the love in his eyes or the need in his heart; Christine had simply chosen to dismiss it. She loved him, and loved him dearly; but her love for him was unromantic and brotherly.

She lifted her red, regretful eyes to Bernadette, clearly unable to grasp the reality of everything going on around her.

"Where do we go from here?" She asked, not fully expecting an answer.

Bernadette picked up the only remaining possession that Erik had left behind, treasuring it in her hands as the tiny ballerina atop the music box began to slowly move around as though she had suddenly come alive. Erik had handmade the tiny dancer years ago, when he had first arrived at the opera house. He had treasured it dearly; but this was his way of saying to Bernadette that he would never forget her, and that he cared for her very much.

"We carry on, as best we can." was her hushed reply.

The next few hours were spent trying to explain to the managers and the patron that Erik had moved on and would likely never return. Taking into account the considerable talents that Erik brought to the opera, they were immediately cast into frenzy – searching for another who could bring the same quality of music and design to the opera house…days turned into weeks, weeks into months; and still, no one was found.

Christine and Raoul prepared to wed, and life tried to return to normal, but Erik haunted Christine – his voice, his beautiful, soulful eyes, his rare smile - Erik had left an impression on everyone who knew him; life would never be the same.

۞۞۞۞

There were several things that Erik found out about himself in the days and weeks following his departure from France: although he had climbed long ropes, extending into the rooftops of the opera house; and although he had skillfully maneuvered the stairs, dark corners, and various other shadowed places in the opera house, he was not used to being exposed to the elements.

He had been rained on, hailed on, almost struck by lightening on several occasions; he half-froze in the night and felt the stifling heat during the day – he had learned more about weather patterns and safety precautions than he had ever thought to learn.

Eating was a different sort of challenge….having to tackle small animals with his bare hands, remembering what he learned from the gypsies about plants and their purposes, even the ones that were poisonous to the digestive system but could be used for other things; and find fresh drinking water.

It was not that he was used to being wrapped in luxury since being at the Opera Populaire, but he was accustomed to the occasional glass of wine or Scotch, the semi-soft surface of his hand-made bed, the sanctity and solitude of his music…but none of that was his anymore. He was truly alone for the first time in his life, with no one but himself for company…what a revolting development.

Through the years, he had managed to save a small fortune – his needs and wants being meager – and to keep it from being stolen or lost he sewed the bills in to the lining of his cape, knowing that thieves and vagabonds often preyed upon lone travelers.

He found himself enjoying the different scenery as he walked his way through the southern parts of France, trying to come to terms with what the rest of his life would entail.

Somewhere about mid way through the second week, Erik thought he could make better time if he purchased a horse and rode his way to his destination. How hard could it be?

Finding and purchasing the horse had been far easier than Erik had expected. The animal was impressive, although Erik knew nothing about horses, and had been less expensive than he had anticipated.

The black stallion was magnificently built…strong and supreme, and Erik stood back from him and gazed in awe. With his arms crossed over his chest, a raised brow, and pursed lips…Erik looked pleased.

"My daughter named him…" the seller offered, "…she insisted; and I have a hard time saying no to her…." the man stated, coming up beside him.

Erik nodded his head in a silent affirmation – giving the man little attention, his eyes still measuring the majestic beauty of the animal before him. A list of appropriate names that would describe the magnificent creature was filtering through Erik's mind, but he would keep the name the horse had grown used to.

"And what name is that?" Erik asked, hardly curious but needing to know.

The young man slapped him on the arm and chuckled, "Daffodil…after her favorite flower."

Erik lifted a dark brow, hoping the man was jesting; but it was obvious he was quite serious. The smile left his features as the contemplated calling the magnificent stallion by such a ridiculous name; it seemed unusually cruel.

"Daffodil?" He repeated in astonishment.

The man nodded, "It is the only name to which he will answer….that, and Daffy…" he smiled roguishly, "…for short."

_Daffodil_…Erik dropped his head into his hands and nodded unbelievingly as he repeated the name in his head; to make matters even worse the horse seemed to smirk knowingly at him when the name was mentioned.

Standing by the animals ear Erik patted his neck with affection, "Do not look so smug my black beauty…you should be ashamed of such a name." Daffy lifted his head in a proud, arrogant tilt and glared at Erik…challenging him to accept the name.

As their journey began, the man's words proved to be true, for the giant horse answered to nothing else. Daffy did not care for the fact that Erik was determined to perch himself upon his back and ride about as though he owned the world; and cooperation was not in his nature. The first few attempts were a complete disaster – ending with Erik flat on his back amidst a field of tall grass and sticky weeds. After that, things only got worse.

"You blasted animal….quit purposely throwing me..." Erik demanded, taking full control of the situation after ending up half on and half off the animal – again; twirling ridiculously around in circles as Daffy prepared to perform some sort of waltz. "…I am the master, you are the horse…" Erik announced, pointing into Daffy's face with a determined scowl. "….we will try it again."

Cautiously easing toward Daffodil, Erik cooed and awed at him, hoping to sooth his spirit enough to climb upon his back; but the horse seemed to read his uncertainty and after wooing him in with his dark, luminous eyes, Daffodil allowed him to get one foot half way over before placing his nose between Erik's legs and tossing him over onto the other side…landing him, once again, in the grass with a loud thud.

Sore, frustrated, and more than a little bit angry, Erik glowered at the stallion with the most intimidating, menacing look he could muster; threw his hands in the air, and began walking.

Days turned into weeks, and the two became inseparable. Erik did not try again to climb onto Daffodil's back, and Daffodil seemed to have made a personal promise to not antagonize Erik…very much.

Perched upon a large rock with his boots pulled off , rubbing his feet; Erik grumbled about the wretched situation in which he found himself, "I should sell you to the next high bidder for what you have put me through, you menacing creature…" Daffy seemed to lift a busy brow and stare incredulously at his owner, daring him to carry through on his threat, "…do not look at me that way, you know it is true."

Erik went through seven pairs of boots, and countless pairs of socks. Daffodil hardly noticed to Erik utter dismay; he was content to make his meals upon the grass and weeds, and lie down beside Erik at night…but riding was out of the question.

They eventually arrived in Toulouse and decided to continue on to Spain instead of heading toward Marseilles. Erik had no desire to discover how he would react to being on a ship for any length of time…his stomach lurched at just the thought of it; and Daffy seemed to agree.

Avoiding people at all costs, they never traveled through the cities during the daylight hours; they were successful in finding abandoned barns or secluded thickets where they could rest during the day without being discovered. During the night, they made tremendous headway, and the cities were virtually lifeless.

It only took a few days to ease their way into Pamplona, Spain. The weather was agreeable, but Erik found the night air a bit stifling for early September. Paris had been less tropical, but he knew it would be a matter of adjustment…and he was, and always had been, a very adaptable person.

As the night settled around them, Erik found an archaic looking house tucked back behind unkempt vegetation and scraggly trees. The very appearance of the place seemed to indicate that whoever had once lived there, no longer did.

He made his way through the thistles and crawling branches, left Daffy to guard the rickety front porch, and quietly moved toward the front windows to peer into the dark house. There was little he could see, other than to affirm that there were no lights on and the place appeared to be deserted.

The door was not latched, but hung rather precariously on the hinges; practically inviting him into the bedraggled house. His footfalls made no noise as he went from the first room to the second, but it was not long before he heard movement behind him. Feeling his heart rise into his chest, Erik turned slowly to face whatever being was about to attack him…only to be nudged in the face by the soft nose of his traveling companion.

Daffodil had taken it upon himself to follow Erik into the house as quietly and stealthily as he had seen his master move. Erik wanted to strangle the animal, but was suddenly overcome by the most overwhelming urge to laugh…the whole situation was ludicrous.

He led the horse back out the door and gave him a firm lecturing before heading back into the house. The windows were the only thing affording the house any sort of protection from the elements, so Erik took up temporary residence; finding a couch in the back room that was oddly out of place – being in good shape and showing little use.

Taking his cape off and placing it over the surface of the couch, Erik stretched out, giving his legs a much needed rest. He closed his eyes for a few minutes, just to rejuvenate his overly tired muscles, but ended up falling into a deep sleep for the first time in months.

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

Your reviews make my heart sing...thank you.

TIME BETWEEN US

CHAPTER 3

Professor Casper Roundtree was anything but well rested. He had spent the greater part of yesterday – and everyday before – trying to solve the last intricate problems with his theory, but had been unsuccessful - so far. He was determined, despite the recent setbacks and all of the derogatory comments from those who had once been his esteemed colleagues.

He dragged himself out of the dilapidated bed and fumbled his way toward the washroom…he had at least modified that particular space to meet his needs; otherwise, the house remained pretty much as he had found it.

Catching a glimpse of himself in the cracked mirror, Casper smiled and shook his head. Maybe he was finally loosing what little sense he had left; he could have sworn that it was just yesterday that he had been a young man with a bright future. No one and nothing could sway him from his studies and experiments.

Now, he was sixty-four years old with nothing to show for his efforts. Many thought he was just a reclusive, eccentric madman with no link to reality; but they did not know him; not really. Knowing what they all thought of him made him laugh...he had been without them or their approval for this long, who needed it?

Running a comb through his thinning hair and splashing chilled water on his face, Casper finally woke up enough to keep from falling down the stairs. He was not as young as he used to be, and it was a chore in the mornings to actually put one leg in front of the other.

Grumbling about the aches and pains that seemed to invade his body every morning, and yearning for a hot, black cup of coffee, Casper made his way down the hallway to the back of the house, toward the kitchen area…but something strange caught his eye in the room adjacent to the kitchen.

۞۞۞۞

The feeling that came over Erik was one of being watched…not an unusual feeling for one who had been hidden most of his life and used to people reacting strangely when they caught a glimpse of him; but it was a feeling he was no longer used to – mainly because he just avoided people altogether.

For a few moments, he was disoriented and unsure of his location, but it all came back to him in a blast of memories. His eyes flew open at the same time that he sat bolt upright on the couch – which normally would not have been a problem. The problem arose when – unbeknownst to Erik – a man was bent over him, wondering why a stranger was inside his house and sleeping on his beloved thinking couch.

Erik's head collided with the man's nose – and everything went bad from there.

Grabbing his nose and falling to the floor, Casper seemed to be fine – until he saw the blood running through his fingers and down his arm; at which point he passed out. Erik, startled but otherwise fine, knelt beside the man and checked to make sure he was still breathing before rummaging through the house for some strips of cloth. He quickly saturated them in cold water and ran back to the unconscious man.

Erik placed his arms under the man's arms and lifted him, bending him at the waist…not caring that blood was still pouring from his nose. He put the cold cloths over the man's injured nose and bent his head forward; he checked the bones and found them intact, so it had just been a jarring injury and nothing permanent; for which Erik was very thankful.

The man began to stir and struggle against Erik's larger frame, but Erik held him firmly to his chest, making sure that the bleeding stopped before he pulled away. The man stared at him for a brief moment before rising to his feet on his own accord and glaring at his intruder.

Noting the dark, gloomy mood of his clothing, Casper could only perceive that the man was in mourning – or something, but the clothes were made of sturdy, expensive material – which indicated that he was wealthy. He was tall and well-built; apparently in good health and his body appeared to be strong and at the peak of his years.

_So why was he here?_ Casper thought, stubbornly lifting his chin to glare even deeper into the ambivalent green eyes that stared at him.

"Thank you for stopping the bleeding on an injury that you caused, but at least you did not finish the job and kill me outright."

Casper could not feel uneasy around the young man; there was something very unassuming about him. Although he could most certainly be intimidating when needed – Casper was sure of that – there was nothing remotely daunting about him at the moment.

He said nothing, but continued to stand there with the strangest look of complete confusion on his face. Casper thought it curious that the roles seemed to be reversed; the young man was assessing him as though it had been he who had done the invading and this house belonged to the stranger.

Something about the absurdity of that made Casper start laughing…and the strange young man looked even more confused.

"What are you doing here?" Casper asked as soon as the laughing seemed to be under control.

Once again, nothing but a blank stare mixed with a touch of bewilderment.

"_Je parle_…" Erik wrinkled his brow in search of the right word, "…_très peu_…" he was still searching for the English words, "…little English." He finally completed, actually feeling proud of himself.

Casper lifted his brows and sucked his bottom lip into his mouth…therein rested the problem.

"Great…you speak very little English and my French is less than adequate."

The comic timing of the situation was enough to make Casper laugh once more; here he was – a discredited Oxford University professor; in front of him stood a misplaced Frenchman wearing expensive clothing; and they literally ran into each other in a beat down shack in the middle of the Spanish countryside…who would have thought such a thing could happen?

In the midst of such preposterous coincidence, the likelihood of success in other things brought a smile to Casper's weathered features.

"I am going to go on the assumption that you were seeking shelter for a much needed rest and have no intention of harming me…therefore, I offer you what little I have."

Casper walked across the hall and into the kitchen, making them both a hot cup of black coffee; it was truly his one weakness.

The young man continued to fill the room with his presence, and remained standing until Casper pulled a chair into the room from the kitchen. They each sat contentedly and sipped from their cups.

"By the way, my name is Casper Roundtree."

Casper reached his hand out to the young man, extending his friendship and trust. The stranger hesitated only a moment before firmly gripping his hand.

"Erik Marchand." He responded stiffly; but in the next breath, he smiled briefly and lifted the now empty cup and stated, "Thank you", in perfect, accented English.

۞۞۞۞

After the initial shock wore off, they skeptically examined each other. Erik saw an average sized man in his mid-sixties; intelligent, generous eyes the color of storm clouds; and a broad smile. They immediately felt a bond, even after Casper looked up and saw a horse standing in the doorway.

"Well, who do we have here?" He asked, reaching out to the animal.

When Erik did not immediately answer, Casper turned to him.

"Daffodil...uhmmm...ehr... Daffy." Erik finally admitted, reluctantly; hoping he was speaking in such a manner that the man could understand him.

The older man could not help the smirk that lifted the corners of his mouth or the mirth that filled his eyes.

"What?" Casper asked; his voice filled with laughter and his head cocked to one side.

Erik rolled his eyes and finally chuckled - seeing the humor in the situation. He shook his head and muttered, "Vous ne voulez pas savoir…" and offered his own translation, "…long story…" putting the subject to rest.

۞۞۞۞

It did not take long for each man to realize how much he needed the other. Both were reclusive, betrayed outcasts; neither of them willing to admit they were terribly lonely and both of them geniuses in their chosen fields of interest. Their reluctant friendship was shaky at first; Erik had trust issues that did not blend well with Casper's unusually frank mannerisms.

Eventually, Erik began to see that Casper – although indisputably unbalanced to the rest of the world – seemed perfectly fitted to his. When forced to interact with others as they mulled around the small Spanish town, Casper did most of the talking while Erik brooded in the background. His dark beauty caused the women of the town to chatter about his marital status and availability, but Casper noticed that the man seemed completely ignorant of their interest in him.

After an especially busy afternoon of repairs on the house and working in the yard, they sat down to a tall glass of cool water. For months they had been fixing the place up, making it more livable and presentable. Erik discovered that Casper was an excellent teacher, taking the time each night to teach him English and Spanish, and after only a few weeks, Erik was fluent in both.

"You are a quick study, my boy….I would have given anything to have you in my classes at Oxford; I could have taken some of the credit for that brilliant mind you have."

Erik lifted mournful eyes to his friend and smiled sadly, "I would not have done well, Casper; men have put me in a category all my own. I have moved passed freak of nature and stand alone as a monster among men."

Casper regarded him intently for moment, "I thought you said that you made a good living at the opera house with your compositions and such."

"I did, but that was after so much damage had already been done. The gypsies taught me everything I needed to know about myself by the time I was six years old…the next nine years only proved to further embed those words deeper into my mind."

They had talked about it a few times over the past months, and each time Casper left the conversation wondering how a boy could have survived the ordeal that Erik went through. He had not only survived, but he had gone on to become a magnificent mind – full of so many original ideas and a beauty that Casper had only seen one other time in his life…in his son.

"You are no monster, my boy…believe me…I have known monsters." The pain Erik happened to glimpse in his eyes was an old pain, but it seemed to drape over Casper like a security blanket. "They disguise themselves as affluent men who speak eloquent words of praise only to turn on you in a moments time…saying that you are no more than a liar and a deceiver with no credibility and the intelligence of a lab rat."

The evening sun was sinking in the horizon, casting a shadow over the table where they sat. Erik watched that same shadow pass over the features of his friend, and knew he had withstood a pain in his life that would have crippled a lesser man. He found himself desperately wanting to know what it was.

"What happened Casper…who were those men?"

Casper's gaze wandered around the room, focusing on nothing and yet, seeing everything.

"My executioners, so to speak; they were my colleagues at Oxford…men I had known for many years."

His hesitation gave Erik a moment to think about what he knew about Casper. At night, when he thought Erik was asleep, Erik had seen him walking toward the large shed in the woods behind the house. The shed was peculiar, in that it was in no need of repairs and was secured firmly at all doors and windows.

Erik was not one for asking questions, having the need for secrets himself. He knew, probably better than anyone else, the need for privacy and never thought much about it after that.

"They found my ideas to be threatening and less than acceptable to their…common way of thinking. My theories tested the known boundaries that govern our lives and questioned the boxes in which we voluntarily put ourselves."

Erik knew he was trying to say something, fluttering around the words and trying to avoid giving his secret away; but the longing contained between the words convinced Erik to press him harder.

"You are making no sense, Casper…just say what you need to say."

Casper sat quietly; inwardly debating his next move. He found in Erik a kindred spirit, for he had the same drive within him…the drive to discover his own potential and the hidden potential of his surroundings. He never took anything at face value…there was always more to it than he could see with his eyes; and he was never satisfied with his own place in relation to his environment.

"Do you believe in the goodness of science, Erik…in that it is used to prove the existence of God, rather than proving He does not exist…or science that is used to find the cure for the diseases that plow through the human body rather than being used to find out the mating habits of the dung beetle?"

Erik found the last statement comical, but he had to say that he did believe in it. Looking deep into Casper's gray eyes, Erik found a force that had not been there before – something pushing him to question what others just accepted.

"Follow me."

Erik followed Casper to the large shed behind the house, and entered the premises as though entering a sacred burial ground. His eyes beheld some of the most fascinating and unbelievable contraptions – all of them serving a purpose that Erik was certain would have been useful in the everyday life of people everywhere. However, Casper walked by them all as though they were nothing special.

It was not until they came to the back of the building that his face lit up from an inner source, and the pride he should have been feeling from all of his inventions showed through.

"This is DIANA…" Casper stated, pointing to a large bubble-type machine that seemed to be humming…or something, "…DIANA is my pride and joy."

They circled the thing, Erik half expecting it to blow up or take off…one or the other; but Casper's fingers ran tenderly over the surface as though the machine could feel his caress.

"What do you think of her?"

Erik crossed his arms over his chest and cocked his head to the side. "She is grand…" he responded, "…what is she?"

Casper grinned and grasped Erik's forearm firmly with excitement, "I am glad you asked that question..." he winked, "…she is a time machine."

Erik cocked a brow, scratched his head, then perched his elbow on his other arm and rubbed his chin, _Alright, I certainly was not expecting that._

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

'This chapter marks the end of Part 1.

Thank you for going on this journey with me...

TIME BETWEEN US

CHAPTER 4

"A time machine?" Erik repeated, thinking the idea completely outrageous, but already finding the concept fascinating. As Erik further examined the wondrous machine, Casper hardly slowed in his enthusiastic explanation.

"Just think of it Erik! We could go into the past and actually speak to the Son of God while He was on this Earth! Or we could go into the future and see how the future generations have advanced themselves, making sure the morals and values of God we taught their forefathers are still present. We...we could...even change the past for the better...if we wanted to!"

While Casper drifted off in his excitement, Erik began to realize why Casper had truly built the machine. He did not have the heart to tell the old man that tampering with the past was not a smart idea…potentially changing history and altering the course of nations. Despite his claims to the contrary, Erik knew there was a God; and he was fairly certain that He would not allow anyone to travel into the past.

Catching up to the old man, Erik listened as Casper was able to show the basic design and purpose to him, and the shock was replaced by intrigue and curiosity. Erik's architectural abilities, design and artistry skills provoked his interest in Casper's invention; drawing him closer to it as though it had whispered his name.

"There is one small flaw that prevents me from throwing caution to the wind and using myself as a trial example." Casper stated; awe filling his voice and his eyes as he walked around DIANA "Something with my redundancy sequencers is not right and I have tried every turn and twist that I can think of to fix them – but apparently my calculations are off in some way…"

Erik amusingly watched Casper circle DIANA several times, examining various places - tightening anything that seemed loose and double checking all the parts.

"…when I was a younger man, this never would have happened."

Erik had to laugh at that statement; Casper was one of the most intelligent men he had ever had the privilege of meeting and talking with, Erik could not see Casper as anything other than a genius.

"Together…Casper…together we will determine what the problem is and get it fixed."

Casper knew Erik could do it; there was no doubt in his mind. As they spent the next few weeks going over each part – piece by piece – Casper was more than convinced that Erik could have built the entire machine on his own.

"You really are quite brilliant, Erik…why have you never done designing or architecture for a living?"

Erik snorted – somewhere between comically and self-mockingly, "There are few people in the world today that will hire someone who has the brand of the devil on his face."

Casper looked fully into Erik's eyes – his spectacles dropping to the bridge of his nose – and smiled a crooked smile, "Is that what that is…I thought it was just some random scarring that was shaped like a 'D'…strange."

He pushed his glasses back up and snorted through his nose in disgust, "I cannot believe the intolerance of people."

That was it…nothing more was ever said about it.

۞۞۞۞

The weeks went by, and Erik and Casper found they worked well together. Erik felt a bond with the old man that he had never felt before...the bond of a son with his father. Having never known his father, Erik liked to think that their relationship would have been similar to this; educational, fun, and almost loving.

The evenings were spent playing chess and the occasional card game – learning English and Spanish, and getting to know each other more thoroughly. Casper questioned Erik about his past, and Erik slowly opened up to him concerning his years with the gypsies, the uncertainty of his lineage, and the twelve years he had spent at the Opera Populaire.

Trying to avoid talking about Christine was like avoiding the need to breathe, and Erik discovered that he needed to share the burden of the pain with someone…and Casper was willing to listen.

"After almost two years, I still feel the raw wound within me; will it ever go away?" Erik felt the bitterness creeping into his heart, something he had successfully circumvented for months.

Casper slowly drew air in through his nose and pursed his lips, "When I lost Diana and David, I thought my world has come to an abrupt and tragic end…they were the future and yet they were my present – my everything." Casper reflected. "Even after all these years, their loss is still an open wound on my heart…one that will never heal…" he lifted sorrowful eyes to Erik and mournfully smiled, "…I named the time machine after my wife because it is now my future…my hope for a better existence elsewhere."

Erik remembered the story of Casper's loss, the superstitious and judgmental men that he had called friends had turned their backs on him one night long ago…and in doing so, had hunted him down like a dog. They thought he had sold his soul to the devil with his talk of time travel and other fantastic things; things they did not understand – nor did they wish to.

The hunt had ended one night fourteen years ago when they had come in the late morning hours; disguised, drunk on suspicion and rage, and set his house on fire. It wasn't until the following day that Casper had returned from a lecture engagement to find his house burned to the ground and the charred remains of his wife and son, still asleep in their beds.

Casper had all but lost his mind over the following years. No arrests were ever made, as there was only Casper's uncanny knowledge of the men involved that assured him, beyond any doubt, that they had done it. His research and findings had cost him dearly; with the lives of the two he loved most in the world.

"I am an old man, Erik…love is out of my reach; but you…" he grasped Erik's arm in fatherly affection, "….you are young and I know that somewhere out there is a woman for you. A woman far better for you than this Christine could have ever been."

Erik shrugged his shoulders, not convinced by any means.

"I am not sure I will ever love again, Casper; I am not the sort of man that women want..." Erik drew circles on the table while sipping a glass of warm milk, "…if love is to be mine, it will have to find me."

The last statement was almost a whisper, but Casper heard it clearly. He lifted his warm gray eyes and smiled softly at Erik, "My boy, these things cannot be rushed, you will love again – and she will love you back – equally." A soft chuckle filled the dim room, and Erik arched a brow at his friend, "Besides…" Casper continued, oblivious to Erik's inquisitive look, "…most women cannot tell you what they want, so who are you to say you are not what they want."

Erik's hand absently stroked the rough, scarred surface of his once perfect cheek, and Casper knew exactly what was going through his mind. "That thing does not have to come between you and love, Erik…you seem to think it makes you a monster, and I guarantee that it does not."

That was just one of many times that Casper tried to make Erik see his worth, and he hoped and prayed that he was making a dent in Erik's hard armor of self-hatred.

It had been two years since Erik left France. The time had seemed to creep by when he was on his own; but now, he found his days filled with endless discovery and enjoyment…something he thought would never be his.

One cool, damp morning in mid November, Erik and Casper had arisen early to start upgrades and repairs on DIANA. Erik had left Casper in the kitchen and headed out to the shed to start his chores. After thirty minutes or so, Erik wondered where Casper had gotten off to.

Putting down the rag he had used to wipe his hands, Erik went in search of his friend, eager to see the results of all their hard work over the past few months. The machine was impressive and Erik fully understood the potential she had; he had never considered the possibility of time travel before, but as the facts began to unfold, Erik became a believer.

Calling out to him as he left the shed and headed for the house, Erik began to wonder if he had lain back down. During breakfast, he had complained of not feeling well and had brushed it off as exhaustion and being overworked.

"Casper…you old goat…where are you?" Erik called, rounding the side of the house and striding across the front porch. The house was quiet, but Erik sensed that something was not right. After years of using his instincts to stay alive, Erik had learned to trust them.

He walked into the kitchen and found Casper sitting at the table with the most peaceful look on his face; complete with a serene smile. The color drained from Erik's face as he rushed to his friend's side, but he knew Casper was already gone. For the first time in his life, Erik had to cope with the loss of someone close to him…someone he had come to care for…every much.

Daffy helped him carry Casper's body to the back of the beloved shed and lay him to rest on a small hill underneath a large tree; even marking the grave with a perfectly carved cross that Erik took a few hours to make.

There, beneath the stars that dotted the sky and the rustling of the evening breeze, Erik felt closer to God than he had ever felt. For so long, he had thought himself beyond redemption of any kind, but Casper had settled a ray of hope in his heart. Erik had never doubted the existence of God, only His willingness to love a creature as ugly as he felt he was; and Erik's inability to forgive himself for the things that had been done to him at the hands of the gypsies. They had left him scarred beyond recognition; he was certain his soul was not the thing of beauty that God had created it to be.

Daffy stood as still as a statue, his dark head bowed as if in prayer. Erik closed his eyes and bowed his head also; and soon, words and melody softly came to his mind and he graced the heavens with their beauty….

_"I know your life on earth was troubled,  
and only you could know the pain.  
You weren't afraid to face the devil…  
you were no stranger to the rain."_

Finally allowing tears to flow, Erik felt the cleansing within him that only they could bring. He smiled toward the heavens, knowing his friend was looking down upon him.

"_Go rest high on that mountain…  
friend, your work on earth is done.  
Go to heaven shouting  
love for the Father and the Son."_

Remembering the past year or so that he had spent with Casper, Erik reflected on their spiritual discussions. Casper had continuously reminded Erik that God never left him, that it was Erik who had abandoned Him. It had taken months, but Erik began to see his point, and God had made it clear as time had rolled on.

There were many nights that Casper had spent soaking in the bathtub, his voice raised toward the heavens in song….Erik's trained ear and perfect pitch cringed at the sound, but he knew that God only heard sweet praises being lifted to Him.

And Erik sang on…_  
_  
"_Oh how we cried the day you left us.  
We gathered round your grave to grieve.  
I wish I could see the angel's faces,  
when they hear your sweet voice sing_

_Go rest high on that mountain…  
friend, your work on earth is done.  
Go to heaven shouting  
love for the Father and the Son._

_Go to heaven a shouting  
love for the Father and the Son."_۞

Erik mourned him the best way he knew how…by finishing what he had started. One week later, Erik had made the necessary adjustments and was ready for the next big step – time travel.

۞Song is "Go Rest High on That Mountain", sung by Vince Gill. original wording was son.

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

Part II

Getting to Know Randi'

TIME BETWEEN US

CHAPTER 5

_September 10, 2007_

Four short months ago, Randi Willows had faced the death of her parents by some mysterious ailment that doctors could not identify. Within a few days of each other, Clint and Misty Willows were gone. They had been her backbone all of her life; both of them strong in their own special way.

Up until two years ago, the ranch had been a great success. For generations, it had created revenue for the Willows family, the tiny town of Rand, Colorado, and the surrounding communities.

In 1878, Ainsley Willows had founded the ranch after traveling across the territories and finally settling in Colorado. He and his wife, a European that no one thought would ever fit in, had worked long hours and spent considerable amounts of the family fortune to purchase the horses and cattle needed to get the Willow's Peak Ranch established and functional.

The local town had fought the development at first, thinking it would do nothing but create chaos and bring in the riffraff from all around, but Ainsley was driven by the need to make it happen. Eventually, he won the locals over and the town had never regretted the revenue the ranch produced and the many various donations the family had made throughout the years.

Randi stared at old family photos, amazed at the resemblance between her father, Clint, and her great, great, great, great, grandfather, Ainsley. The pictures were fading and cracked, but Randi could see the same stubborn set to the chin, the same warm, dark eyes, and the aristocratic, straight nose.

Man, she missed him so much the pain was palpable. Her father had been her hero and best friend for most of her life; they shared similar interests from rodeo to music. He had been as ecstatic about her horse back riding lessons, calf-roping lessons, barrel racing lessons and all other rodeo related lessons, as he had been about her piano and voice lessons. He had taught her how to be a woman by being the epitome of a man; hardworking, dedicated, and committed to his family - no matter the cost.

Once again, she stared at the picture, wondering what life had been like long ago…especially for the dark-haired woman in the picture, standing beside Ainsley. She had proven to be a bulwark amidst the tribulation that had followed her arrival in the states. She had fought the prejudice that naturally ensued when a stranger arrived and had stood beside her husband with strong, squared shoulders and the determination to be what he needed her to be.

Randi lifted her eyes to see a picture of her mother on the wall above her. Misty Willows had once been Miss Colorado; she was tall and sinewy with no visible flaws. Randi shared her mother's deep love of music, auburn hair and picture perfect completion. Misty had gently pushed her daughter to excel in all areas that were music related and was her teacher from the age of two. When Randi showed an interest in rodeo competition, Misty had been heart broken; but Randi excelled in both areas and soon surpassed their dreams for her.

Despite her best efforts and all her hard work, Randi had failed to be accepted into Julliard. After traveling to New York and putting all she had into the auditions, she had decided to try it on her own – without Daddy's money - in the big city, find a voice and piano instructor, and re-audition in a few months.

Those months had stretched on as the reality of life sank in. New York was not a cheap place to live and finding the right job to earn enough money to pay rent, buy food, pay the electric bill, and pay the occasional unforeseen expenses was much more difficult than Randi had anticipated.

She remembered the hitch in her father's voice when she told him she was staying in New York and would earn her own way. He had tried to hide the pain in his voice, but Randi knew his heart had been breaking. He had reluctantly agreed to only send money if Randi asked for it; and they both knew she would never ask.

She was only eighteen and Clint and Misty feared she would get lost in the anonymity of the big city. For the first few years, Randi had come home once every couple of months, but as her life became more entrenched in New York and she found a line of work that she enjoyed…her visits came further and further apart; but there was never a Thanksgiving and Christmas that she wasn't there in the eight years that she had been on her own.

It had only been three years ago – on her twenty-third birthday - when her father became curious about the amount of money that Randi seemed to be making. Randi had hesitated at first, but she finally told him she had gotten her bartender's license and was gainfully employed at one of the top nightclubs in New York

Her parents had not been happy about it, but they eventually realized that she was taking control of her life and had done so without a great deal of help from them – they had said over the phone, the week before they died – that they were proud of her.

Now they were gone.

There was a sick feeling forming in the pit of her stomach as she put away the pictures to prepare for court. They had to give her custody of Cody – where else could he go? Surely they would not give her maternal grandparents custody…they couldn't. They weren't bad people, just elderly and there was no way they could raise a twelve-year-old boy.

She had not seen him very much since arriving at the ranch a few weeks ago. Social services had stepped in and sent him to a foster home until it could be determined that Randi was a proper guardian for him. Her background was thoroughly ransacked and they looked down their judgmental noses at her bartender's license. They were determined to paint her as a dealer of alcohol that caused men to get drunk and commit crimes of varying kinds.

Randi was not ashamed of her career right now. She made good money and all of her bills were paid; she even had a descent savings account that was being used to sustain the ranch right now.

It seemed hard to believe that they were gone. It had started out with small brush fires on the ranch; then the horses and cattle started getting sick and dying. Not long after that, the main house caught on fire, causing almost a million dollars in structural damage and another million in property and personal goods loss.

Her parents were devastated mentally and financially. The insurance company would not cover the losses until it was determined – beyond any doubt - that Clint had not sabotaged his own house, livestock, and property. The investigation was in the infant stages when Clint and Misty both became deathly ill – tests of all kinds were run, but no source was found for the mysterious sickness that was slowly and meticulously killing them.

To make matters even worse, Clint's life insurance policy would not pay until they knew that his death had not been caused by his own actions – as a result of his financial ruin over the recent months.

They had many close friends in the community…many who stood vigil by their sides as they fought for their right to live. Some were new friends; others were like family, and had been in their lives for years. There had been so many new faces at the wake and the funeral that followed; Randi was still overwhelmed by them all.

Dale Martin, the ranch foreman that Clint had hired last year and let go a few months later because he could not pay him, took it upon himself to call Randi in New York. She immediately quit her job and purchased a plane ticket to Denver; riding the rest of the way to Willow's Peak Ranch in a rental car.

The situation had been grim from the beginning. Cody was devastated and as a result of the mental trauma he had been through, had spoken very little for several days. He was barely eating and sleep was not coming easily for him; Randi spent the first few hours after she had arrived holding him close while he wept with such anguish that she could feel her heart being ripped from her chest.

She remembered in vivid detail the day her mother had told her she was going to have a little brother or sister. Clint and Misty had all but given up on ever having another child, and when Misty had finally come up pregnant at the age of 38 – fourteen years after having Randi – they had been ecstatic; and when the baby had been born a boy…Clint's head did not come out of the clouds for weeks.

He had been such a strong man…and he had kept everything from her. If only he had told her the truth about what was going on she would have given up her independence to help them salvage what was left; there had been so much wasted time; and all that was left to do was grieve them.

Once Dale had explained everything to her, leaving nothing out, Randi realized her father's actions had been meant to protect her – but now, it was all on her shoulders. She was fighting to keep Cody with her – fighting to hold onto a ranch that was quickly being buried under a mountain of debt – and fighting the urge to crawl under the nearest rock and disappear. With what she could see of the future – they all seemed insurmountable.

"Randi, what's going to happen to us?"

Cody's small, distant voice pulled her from her melancholy, and forced her to grab the keys and head for the pick-up; it was the only one of the vehicles that her father had not had to sell.

She lifted confident eyes and smiled, hoping he could not see through her to the trepidation within.

"We're going to win, Cody…" Randi stated, running her fingers through his sand-colored hair. "…because Mom and Dad are watching over us – even now."

This was a first of many hurdles she knew they would have to jump over before life could return to some normalcy; she just prayed that she did not have to look her little brother in the eye and explain why he could not stay on the ranch, in his room, with his sister.

The court room had very few people in it; just the lawyer for the Health and Human Services Department, the Willow Family lawyer – who was doing this out of the kindness of his heart, knowing that Randi could not pay him – and a few interested parties who had wandered in to watch the proceedings.

"All rise for the Honorable Rosa Garcia."

As the judge walked in and took a seat behind her bench, Randi regarded the small woman with woeful eyes. Although the judge was a partial party, Randi felt a kinship with her when their eyes meant…maybe something good would come out of this after all.

After what seemed to Randi to be hours of listening to her character being drug through the mud, she was finally allowed to speak on her own behalf. Judge Rosa Garcia had not said very much throughout the afternoon, but had listened with adamant interest to everything that was said.

"Miss Willows, you have heard all that has been brought before my bench today; all that has been said…" those inherently warm, brown eyes touched Randi and once again she felt a kinship, "…I need to know what you have to say on your behalf. Remember, this is just preliminary – I will determine from what I hear today whether or not this case will find itself in court."

Randi told her story – from the time she had left to audition for admission into Julliard, until that very day; she explained her reasons for becoming a bartender and why she felt it had been a wise move. She left nothing out, including her suspicions that all was not as it should be in the circumstances surrounding the fall of the ranch and the death of her parents.

"Miss Willows, sincerity and honesty are two things that I hold in great esteem in my courtroom – and I feel that you have both. I understand – all too well – the need to do what we must to achieve the goals we have set for ourselves. You have a strong character and more inner strength in you than I have seen in a very long time."

The judge took a moment to glance down at the papers spread across her desk and then allowed a small smile to touch her lips, "I lived in Brooklyn for a few years, not long ago, and I know, personally, the high cost of living in New York. I refuse to punish you for the behavior of weak people who don't know their own limits."

She stamped the papers and addressed the entire courtroom.

"I see no reason for this case to carry through to the court systems. There is no justifiable reason for her to not be allowed to have permanent custody of her brother. It is our duty to deduce what is the best decision for the child, and the love I saw in his eyes when he looked at his sister and when I saw that same look in her eyes….my decision was obvious."

She once again centered her gaze upon Randi and smiled, "I wish you and your brother the best, Miss Willows."

Cody gave her the biggest hug and she returned it, feeling a bit vindicated in front of the Health and Human Services Department. They had done a heartless dissection of her life, and the judge had seen through it.

There were a few grumbles heard from those who had listened in on the proceedings, and Randi knew the voice of the loudest complainer; Bracy Thomas had been another ranch hand that Clint had hired several months before Randi had left – and he had attended high school with her. Bracy had made it clear that he had designs on her from the beginning and she could barely tolerate his presence.

He waited for Cody to pass by before blocking Randi's path out of the courthouse.

"Randi…you look unusually hot today."

She wore a sensible, long-sleeved western-style shirt with a denim vest, boot-cut, not-to-tight blue jeans, cowboy boots, and a bandana around her neck. His eyes roved over her petite figure, lingering too long on her breasts and then moving upwards to admire the deep auburn of her shoulder-length hair. He had always made her uncomfortable; and eerily, he seemed to sense that.

"Bracy, I'm on my way out, leave me alone."

Her words failed to rattle his determination, and she placed her hands on her hips in a defiant stand against him. It wasn't that he was an unattractive man…quite the opposite was true…but his good looks were such that she could feel the slime oozing from him and it made her skin crawl. His smile always seemed pasted on and his eyes were so empty she was certain – if she got close enough – she would see a vacancy sign flashing.

"You can't run that ranch on your own…you need a real man to take care of things…" He suggestively rubbed against her, making her want to hurl the entire contents of her stomach into his arrogant, smirking face, "…and to take care of you."

She had the sudden urge to push him away from her, but she knew what battles to fight and which ones to let pass; she smirked back – letting him know with the bite in her tone that he was not her idea of a likely candidate to take on that task.

"Well…" Randi smirked, "…when I find a _real_ man, I may consider it…" she strode past him, sending the full force of her weight down upon his foot – her boots dealing him a painful poke, "…good bye."

Refusing to grimace from the pain in his foot, Bracy watched her shapely backside as she turned from him and strutted out of the building. She certainly was a spitfire, but she had embarrassed him, and there was no cause for such behavior – and especially not from some female who thought herself a man's equal.

"Watch yourself, Miss Willows, I will be waiting…and soon, you will beg me to save you."

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

Reviews are dropping...let me know if this is worth continuing...it's time consuming work if there are few who remain interested.

CHAPTER 6

They both felt like celebrating, even if it was only one victory in a long line of battles they would have to fight. Randi helped Cody into the truck and buckled him in, although he was old enough to do it himself. He smiled endearingly, the dimples in his cheeks a large indication that he would look very much like a long line of Willows men.

Randi managed to rustle up enough money to take Cody to the local ice cream parlor; a treat he had not had for some time. Cody smiled more in that short, one hour time than he had in the last few weeks.

As they got up to leave and head home, Heidi Windom bounded through the door. They had not seen each other for a couple of years, but they were best friends throughout school – from the second grade – when Heidi and her family moved to Waldon.

"Miranda Christine Willows!!" Heidi pulled the smaller woman into a huge hug, practically crushing her within her arms. "My heavens…you look gorgeous!"

They shared a laugh and then Heidi's smile diminished as she remembered the reason Randi was back in town.

"I was so sorry to hear about your parents…such tragic circumstances." Her chin trembled as she remembered the many weekends she and Randi had spent on the ranch learning to ride horses, rope calves, and barrel race. They had built a fort out in the dense woods behind the stables, and sworn boys and the whole world away with the powers of their will….she truly missed those days.

It was obvious from the shadows that crossed her features that Randi did not wish to dwell on the loss of her parents; the pain was just too raw at the moment.

"You look good too, Heidi…what are you doing these days?"

Heidi was a tall, leggy brunette with sparkling, cornflower blue eyes, a lanky figure, and a smile that made every man she met fall hopelessly in love with her. Randi had always secretly felt inadequate in her shadow…but she had loved her as the friend that she was.

"Daddy is still running the rodeo circuit around here…I am the top billing barrel racer and champion calf roper!"

Randi had known rodeo would be Heidi's career – the woman was unstoppable, strong of body and mind, and so competitive that most men found her intimidating in the rodeo arena…but her beauty always won them over in the long run.

"I knew you would dazzle them, Heidi, you were always the best."

Cody sat – bored out of his head – and listened to his sister talk girly nonsense to Heidi Windom. She had tormented him when he was younger, called him a pest and rug-rat. He had hated her when Randi first became friends with her…but now, all he seemed to see was the beautiful color of her eyes and hair. He wrinkled his brow, wondering when he had started to realize that she was so beautiful.

Instead of teasing him, she smiled and touched his arm, telling him how sorry she was that his parents had passed away and that he was left in his sister's care.

"If you ever get tired of eating her cooking, Cody, you are welcome to come to my house. My daddy makes a mean sirloin steak on the grill."

Of course, Cody did not hear anything she said, he was in shock after realizing that she was talking to him, so nothing she was saying made it past the hearts in his eyes.

Randi walloped her friend on the arm, not believing that she would say such things about her cooking.

"I'll have you know that I haven't killed anyone with my cooking yet." Randi boasted.

Heidi lifted a perfectly manicured brow and smirked devilishly, "'Yet' being the definitive word."

Randi tried to keep from laughing and allowing her friend the upper hand, but they were both thinking about the last time they had tried to have a campout behind the ranch house, in the middle of November, surrounded by nothing but wildlife…which included snakes.

Randi was not fond of snakes…in fact, she loathed them. All had been going well, until Randi had spied a snake within an inch of her boot and managed to toss the entire contents of their grill into the dirt in her haste to escape the no doubt highly and innately dangerous six-foot long, three-inch thick, hungry snake that had had the nerve to invade their campsite.

Of course, once the monstrous creature was apprehended by her, oh-so-brave, father – it was found to be all of a foot long, an impressive half-inch in diameter and of the ferocious garden snake variety; but no one could convince Randi at the time that her life had not been in extreme danger.

After they had a good laugh, Randi and Cody allowed Heidi to walk them to the truck.

"Promise me that you will come and see me soon…" Heidi suggested, not wanting Randi to be alone too much, "…bring Cody and the two of you can spend some time with me."

It was tempting…really it was… simply to hide away with Heidi and pretend that nothing was wrong; that there was no Willow's Peak Ranch that needed her undivided attention: no bills that needed to be paid from her quickly dwindling savings account and Cody's trust fund, and no chores that needed to be done daily.

"I can't promise anything right now, Heidi…there is just so much that needs my attention if I intend to try and save the ranch."

"It's that bad?" Heidi questioned.

"Probably worse…I just got started on the paperwork – I am going to have to beg the bank for a loan or find someone to invest in the land…" her voice faded off as she realized the astronomical feat she had ahead of her, "...something."

"Maybe you could marry a smart millionaire who could somehow get you out of this mess."

Randi rolled her eyes and smiled, appreciating Heidi's effort to lighten the mood, "Yeah…that would do it – do you have one hidden away somewhere…I'm fresh out."

"I wish…I'd marry him myself; but your father was one of few in this area..." Heidi pointed out, "…and the other few are much older, crabbier, and far less interesting than your father was."

Randi agreed with a lift of her brow and a nod of her head, "Yep; and none of them have sons to breathe down my neck…that makes me happy. Speaking of breathing down my neck…I ran into Bracy today..." Randi warned, "…he is every bit as obnoxious as he ever was, but seems more slick or serpent-like than he has ever been before."

Heidi knew all about his sleazy ways, and wanted nothing to do with him. "Stay away from him, Randi…he's not right in the head….I mean it."

"You don't have to tell me twice…the crazed, lustful look in his eyes was enough to warn me away…he just seems to make me sick."

Randi had successfully latched Cody's seat belt and walked around the truck to climb up into the driver's seat, Heidi was right behind her.

"He's set to marry Mollie Hodges next spring…and I feel so sorry for her."

Randi had not known that, but she was not surprised; Mollie's parents had always counted on their daughter marrying Bracy Thomas; he was the football quarterback, top ranking bull rider, and all around swell guy…at least in their eyes.

But there had always been a dark side to Bracy that few knew about…and apparently Mollie was ignorant of it, or she would have dropped all thought of marrying him and fled to South America by now.

"Yeah, me too…that doesn't explain why he came on to me…why would he do that if he's getting married?" Randi asked, baffled by his behavior.

"Because that's what he does…he's a big womanizer and Mollie has no idea."

Randi started the truck and put it in reverse, "Then someone needs to tell her."

Heidi nodded her agreement and then watched her drive away; swearing that she would be the one to go to Willow's Peak Ranch and stay with Randi for a few days…it could be like old times…almost.

Randi was upset at herself the entire time it took to drive back to the ranch; poor Cody sat in the seat as quiet as a mouse, just staring into the window. He had taken to being unusually lethargic for a twelve-year-old boy…Randi remembered her Dad's conversations about how Cody was a pistol and seldom slowed down long enough to take a breath.

What made her upset was that so few of her friends had been able to move past the petty days of high school; she was not going to allow herself to get swept up in the drama of Mollie and Bracy…they were two people she had no desire to get to know any better than she already did. Bracy made her skin crawl and Mollie had never been someone she could relate to…they were just too different.

Dale Martin had been one of the elite members of the "Boys-I-wouldn't-mind-dating" list that Randi and Heidi had construed in Sophomore year, but neither one of them had pursued him. He was gorgeous and all, but he just didn't seem to fit in with the "gang", so he was always rather left out.

Bracy had never fallen into that prestigious grouping, however; he was a hot head and seldom did anything that didn't benefit him in some way. His granite features seldom softened in a smile of any sort…rather he sneered at just about everyone. The dark intelligence in his eyes was reminiscent of an other-worldly quality that left most people who meant him feeling as though he would rip out their hearts and devour it while it still beat

In a word, he was spooky.

Dale had never been threatening or foreboding in any way…he was just bland and lacked the personality that would have made him the perfect date. He was polite and gentlemanly most of the time, with a cockeyed grin and sable eyes shrouded by long, brown lashes. In the rodeo world of Rand, Colorado, he was considered a nerd, with more interest in science and chemistry than in anything having to do with horses or cattle.

He had changed a little as high school progressed, choosing to learn the ways of ranching and eventually earning the reluctant respect of many of his fellow students; but most of them still saw him as the lanky, big-footed teenager who always had his nose in a book.

Hiring him had apparently not solved the issues at Willow's Peak Ranch, for they were mounting and Randi was out of fresh ideas…she had never really had any to begin with, but she was not ready to give it all up just yet. The faces of her ancestors haunted her, and she knew she would do all within her power to salvage what she could of Willow's Peak Ranch; but she wondered what it would cost her in the end, and not in a financial way.

She made a quick stop at the grocery store for some milk and a couple dozen eggs and then drove home, promising Cody cheeseburgers and French fries for dinner. This seemed to cheer him up and he went to his room to play a video game.

Being alone with only her own thoughts to occupy her mind, made Randi doubt her ability to save the ranch; she knew little to nothing about ranching – only the rodeo had been her interest growing up. Her father had counted on Cody being the one to carry on the ranching legacy…not her.

_I sure am in a fine mess this time._

Randi's self-chastising thoughts did little to inspire her; instead, they made her stomach churn in uncertainty. She had never been one for theatrical, "Oh-woe-is-me", pity parties, nor had she ever considered herself incapable of anything…but the reality of the situation was beginning to get the best of her.

She stopped what she was doing, walked out onto the front porch, and slumped into a cushioned rocking chair; she dropped her head into her hands, and finally allowed the tears she had been suppressing for days to flow – grief, anxiety, fear, and insecurity – so many things bounced around her thoughts that she was on the verge of being overwhelmed.

She had to present a strong front for Cody, but all she really wanted to do was crumble into someone's arms and cry until she could no longer keep her eyes open. For the first time in her entire life, she let herself long for a man to protect her; to take all of her burdens upon his broad shoulders and ease her mind.

_Dear God, please help me…I need a miracle._

Sunset in the mountains was an event that surely made the angels sing; an endless canvas of periwinkle sky bursting with colors that _Crayola_ would never be able to duplicate – no matter what they did; scrolling clouds reaching for the heavens on the top side and seeming to caress the ground on the bottom side – each of them fringed with that silver lining that so many poets had written about and singers had sung about.

_America__ the Beautiful indeed…_ Randi whispered as she observed the sacred moment when the last of the big, orange ball of the sun dipped beneath the purple coated tips of the mountains. _Orange__ and purple…who would have thought they would look so good together? _Her thoughts strayed to the certainty of nature and the assurance that nothing would ever be out of place until God willed it. The tide could only go so far without His divine word and the earth would continue to spin at a perfect twenty-three degree angle without spinning off its axel. Controlled and ordained – that was the surety of the natural world…but despite her worry, there was no such certainty in her future…and that terrified her.

She could not ignore the unsettled feeling in the pit of her stomach. It wasn't really a bad feeling, but it was enough to keep her senses keen and alert. The purple hues of the waning sunlight created a lovely, surreal picture over the eastern sky, and Randi sat back in the rocking chair on the long, front porch and listened to the sounds of the evening hours as they quickly approached.

She would have to learn to take one day at a time no matter how impatient or desperate she felt at any given moment; she had to do it for Cody, if not for herself.

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

I hadn't thought about the fact that there were people on vacation and such...I hardly know what a vacation is. forgive me for my pity party.

There is one more chapter after this one that builds on Randi, then Erik will be back...so please be patient.

CHAPTER 7

The banging on the door is what woke her the next morning. It took a few minutes for her thoughts to focus, but she flew from the bed when the knocking became more intrusive and less friendly. Her robe had somehow been cast to the floor during the night; most likely by her tossing and turning. She threw it on and slipped her feet into her flip-flops, hoping that whoever it was would go away before she got there.

She made her way down the long hallway and gasped at her reflection in the large mirror that decorated one of the walls. Her hair was a frightful sight; flaying about as though there was neither rhyme nor reason to it. She threw her arms up in the air in exasperation and rolled her eyes – dreading the idea of anyone seeing her in her current state of disarray.

The banging became more incessant and Randi had the distinct impression that the person doing the banging was becoming very impatient with the lack of response. She sped up a little bit and finally rounded the corner into the kitchen. All she saw was a blond head turned toward away from the door.

When she opened the door, Scott McClintock turned around and narrowed his eyes as he openly displayed his lustful desires. There was not even a hint of a smile on his stern lips, and Randi crossed her arms over her chest to prevent him from gaining any further knowledge of her curves.

"Ms. Willows." He droned with a nod, trying to sound businesslike; but Randi knew his concern – or lack thereof – was forced. She tried to remember what it was she ever saw in this man. He had become a hard, ruthless lawyer in the years that they had been apart. Six years ago, he had been the man of her dreams; slightly above average height, golden blond hair, toned muscles and sculpted features. His drive and ambition had robbed him of his charm, and in its stead there remained only a shell of the young man she had known.

"Scott…" Randi managed, her fingers holding the ends of her robe together "…what brings you here at such an early hour?"

Seeming slightly perturbed at not being asked into the house, Scott opened his leather-bound briefcase and produced a small pile of papers. He took a moment to glance over them and then presented them to her with the flash of greed in his pale blue eyes.

"Your father died owing a considerable amount on his mortgage, Randi; you do not seem to have the means to continue carrying the payments; and after a review of the contract, the bank is under no obligation to extend credit to you."

Yanking the papers from his hand, Randi hid the panic that was constricting her breathing and threatening to send her to the floor to plead on her hands and knees for leniency; hoping to appeal to Scott's humanity. However, his humanity seemed to have disappeared along with his charm. There was not even a semblance of compassion in his ghostly eyes; they seemed so cold that his blood had likely frozen in his veins.

Scott closed his briefcase and stood proudly and arrogantly in front of her with a smug smirk on his face, "You have one month to pay the arrears and come up with an additional twenty percent of the loan balance; than the bank will take your case into consideration." He headed back down the porch steps and then turned back to address her one last time. "Think of the one month as a gift, Randi…they could have already foreclosed." He folded his expensively clad body into his impressive Mercedes-Benz and sped out of the driveway; leaving a cloud of dust behind him.

Randi's first thought was to wad the papers into a big ball and toss them into the trash, but she knew it was a fact she could no longer ignore. How was she going to come up with 536,243.16? The amount was as much out of her reach as a billion dollars would have been. She could possibly come up with the sixteen cents, but even that was doubtful at the moment.

Cody would not wake up for another hour or so, and Randi felt the sickness of desperation and loneliness closing in. She shuffled to the back of the house and opened the door to the observatory, needing to hear the comfort of music. The room was much as it had been for years, the addition of a large full-wall window being the only difference since the house had been built.

The sleek, mahogany, grand piano that her father had purchased for her when things had been better stood majestically in the middle of the room, as though it had been waiting for her return. Randi lifted the cover and stared adoringly at the ivory keys; imagining their cool purity beneath her fingers.

Slipping onto the padded bench with an ease she thought she had forgotten Randi felt the creativity churning within her. Propped on the piano was a book that her mother had loved; songs of the 70's and 80's that she and her husband had danced to for hours on end. Flipping through the pages, Randi felt the tears stinging her eyes as her mother's music notations spoke to her from the page. Seeing her handwriting and remembering the times that she had jotted them down made Randi's heart ache with brutal pain.

Finding her favorite song and positioning her hands, Randi allowed the music to fill her…

_"I've been alive forever,  
and I wrote the very first song.  
I put the words and the melodies together,  
I am music,  
and I write the songs._

_"I write the songs that make the whole world sing.  
I write the songs of love and special things.  
I write the songs that make the young girls cry.  
I write the songs, I write the songs." _

As Randi played the piano interlude between verses, she pictured her mother's gentle smile warming her from within. There had never been a moment between them that music had not been the focal-point of their discussion or foremost on their minds…it had been what bound them together.

_"My home lies deep within you,  
and I've got my own place in your soul.  
Now, when I look out through your eyes,  
I'm young again, even though I'm very old.  
_  
_"I write the songs that make the whole world sing.  
I write the songs of love and special things.  
I write the songs that make the young girls cry.  
I write the songs, I write the songs."_

Song is "I am Music", by Barry Manilow

Cody padded into the conservatory while still rubbing his eyes, and approached the piano wearily; it had been months since he had heard the familiar sound of it, and Randi was not sure if he liked it or not. She stopped singing and playing and pulled the young boy into her lap for a morning hug.

"Good morning, Cody…how did you sleep?" She asked, hoping he would give her one of his dazzling, impish grins.

He managed a smile, but it was far from a grin. He barely fit on her lap, being only slightly smaller than she was, and Randi laughed when he almost slipped onto the floor from her lap.

"I like the music, Randi…can I play, too?"

They spent the next couple of hours playing different songs and singing at the top of their lungs. Randi knew she had to study the papers that Scott had dropped off, but she avoided them as though they were a death sentence, and spent the day making her little brother smile.

The more she read, the more infuriated she became. The language hardly lent itself to the average person, and Randi considered herself a fairly intelligent person. There was no way on God's green earth that she was going to call Scott and have him explain the terms to her; she would find another lawyer to do the honors.

As night descended on the ranch, Randi could feel the storm approaching before it reached the mountains behind them. She could smell the rain in the air; the crisp, untainted scent of freshness that could only be produced by the forces of nature.

Randi loved storms; the force of the winds and the formations of the clouds had always enthralled her. It was this wide-eyed fascination that enticed her to the front porch. The sky was the oddest shade of lavender/grey; at least, that was the closest Randi could come to describing the color. She pulled her legs up into the wicker rocking chair and wrapped her arms around her knees; slowly and with unease in her heart, she moved her eyes across the beloved land that had meant so much to her father.

Memories flooded her mind; memories of her first horseback ride and the pride she had seen on her father's face when she refused to be beaten by the enormity of the task; memories of the many recitals she had hosted in the conservatory and the way her mother's eyes had filled with joy when she gave a perfect performance; memories of her first date and, subsequently, her first kiss – both happening on the same night and with two different boys.

The force of the memories made her smile, drawing tears to the surface and pain to her heart. How was she ever going to save the ranch? There was no way she could realistically come up with enough money to make the bank demands; absolutely no way. The future had seemed so bright at one time…a time when the ranch had been her father's responsibility and she could enjoy it when she came home on visits; but she would not let it go without a fight, that much was certain.

The rain started slowly, dropping every few milliseconds, and as Randi wrapped her shawl further around her shoulders, she kept her thoughts on the seemingly impossible task before her. As the rain increased and the lightning shot across the sky, she wondered if the Master Designer would bestow upon her the miracle that she so desperately needed.

"I know I'm not the most religious person, Lord…I fail terribly when it comes to church attendance and such…" she knew He was listening within the shattering of the thunder and the crack of the lightening; she could feel Him as sure as if He stood directly in front of her. "…but I know who You are, and I know that You care about what happens to us…" she wiped the tears from her eyes and humbled her heart, "…I'm not going to make empty promises or try to strike a deal with You; I'm sure You get enough of that….just show me the way."

TBC


	8. Chapter 8

This is the final chapter in Randi's story.

COMING SOON (next chapter) - Erik makes a comeback!!

TIME BETWEEN US

CHAPTER 8

"It's pretty cut and dry, Miss Willows." Brenda Patterson studied the papers once again, searching for the loophole she hoped was hidden somewhere within the legal jargon. She had read each page through several times, but nothing was there that would make for a case.

Randi had taken to biting her nails while waiting for the phone call that could possibly grant her some reprieve. She had faxed the papers to the lawyer that her father had last dealt with concerning the ranch. Brenda Patterson was a renowned attorney specializing in contractual and property issues; she had agreed to read over the papers and give a free consultation to Randi, having been a friend of her fathers.

"Nothing…?" Randi pleaded, "…There's nothing I can do?"

"They seem to have covered all angles, Miss Willows. Whoever drew up these papers and set the terms was determined to allow no scope for error and no room for doubt." Brenda heard a long pause on the other end of the phone.

She had truly liked Clint and Misty Willows; they had been a hard working, business savvy couple who had achieved the American dream. They had also been ethical and moral in their dealings and few, if any, had found fault with them. Who or what had been their downfall was still a mystery, and Brenda was certain it involved foul play; but she kept her suspicions to herself.

"So what Scott said is accurate…I only have thirty days to get this all worked out?"

Wincing at the defeat in the young woman's voice, Brenda felt a deep anger within her. The hopelessness of the situation was more real than she had ever seen and the mothers heart within her longed to shine a ray of hope upon the gloomy outlook; but there just wasn't one.

"Your father never presented any of his financial problems to me, Randi; I had no idea. If I had, perhaps something could have been done long before things escalated to this."

That was an all-to-familiar scenario, and Randi was beginning to wonder what her father had been thinking during the past few months before his death. Always a meticulous businessman, Clint Willows was known for his fair dealings with others and his willingness to spread the wealth. His demise – both professionally and personally – made no sense to those who had known him; but one thing was certain, he had been feeling pressure from somewhere.

Randi could hear the questions in Brenda's tone, even though she did not say a word about them. There was uncertainty and doubt present, and Randi could feel a strong vibe of kinship with the middle-aged, highly praised, female attorney. In the chauvinistic community in and around Rand, Brenda had experienced difficulty in gaining a reputation as a lawyer. She had several high-profile clients who vouched for her integrity and spotless reputation, but some people in the area would never accept her.

Thankfully, her father had been open-minded and progressive in his thinking; he had been blessed to call her friend. In fact, Brenda and her husband, Peter, had often visited the ranch for rest and relaxation, but Randi had been in New York during those times and had never had the privilege of meeting them.

"I wish there were more I could do, Miss Willows, but unless you can borrow the money from someone or suddenly inherit a large sum…I see no way out of this."

Randi hung up the phone with heaviness in her heart that threatened to engulf it. Willow's Peak had endured much through the years: the intrusion of the railroads, the settlers moving west, the Great Depression….and nothing had caused its ruin…until now. What could one, five-foot-seven, 135 pound, fiery redheaded woman do to save it?

Randi was afraid that the answer was…nothing. She went to the stables to check on the horses; wanting to escape the finality of what was happening around her. Cody was in school and it was a beautiful day; she saddled Pegasus, a Palomino gelding she had tamed and trained a few years ago. He was the only horse she could truly call her own, and one of the few animals left on the ranch.

Freedom.

She felt few of the demands that were slowly consuming her and allowed sweet tranquility to take over. Something about the way the wind tossed the heavy cascade of hair that fell to the middle of her back and the whisper of it over her skin made Randi feel as though nothing could touch her.

A hard gallop was what they both needed, and Randi spurred the powerful animal on. The drumming of his hooves over the solid earth filled her heart and mind with happier times; times when life had seemed much simpler and less constricting. Daddy had always known what to do to take away the aches and pains of growing up and he had chased away the boogie man; Mommy had always kissed away the boo-boos and made every day a new adventure.

Slowing to a trot as they approached the mountain range behind the ranch, Randi dismounted and allowed Pegasus his head. The sun was reaching high noon and the day was warm but not overly so. Randi climbed the mountain about one hundred yards and sat down amongst a field of wild flowers.

Few things moved her like the sight that graced her vision while she sat there. The majestic beauty of the mountains was all the proof she needed that God did exist and He was awesome and mighty in His power and creativity. Nature was alive and breathing on that mountainside; eagles soaring above her head and wildlife scurrying around in the grass and brush. Somewhere in the distance, Randi heard the lone cry of a wolf and the echoing answer of another coming from the opposite direction.

New York had been a different kind of alive altogether, and Randi knew there would never be another place on earth that would hold her heart like Colorado did…nowhere. The entire world seemed to wink at her as she watched it perform on the stage that had been designed for it….and what a splendid show it was.

_Colorado__ Rocky Mountain high, I've seen it raining fire in the sky. You can talk to God and listen to the casual reply. __Rocky__ Mountain__ high, in __Colorado__...__Rocky__Mountain__ high_, Randi thought, smiling as the words to that song filtered through her mind. John Denver had captured so much of Colorado with his songs, and Randi was thankful that her father had appreciated his music….it had come to mean a great deal to her over the years...and now it lent her a measure of comfort.

She pulled a book out of her saddle bag and stretched out over the grass, enjoying the warmth of the sun on her back, and the feel of the earth beneath her. Her one weakness was romance novels…particularly historical romance. There was something about a 19th century man with dark beauty, a roguish grin, and an antiquated view of women that made her heart swoon. Chivalry was no longer a virtue that the majority of men possessed, and Randi mourned its loss.

She drifted off into her dream world...

_Draken was tall, with a dark beauty that haunted her dreams; he was damaged and dangerously suspicious - revealing little of himself as he held her as his prisoner - daring her to know him. He was jaded and cryptic, shrouded in mystery and intrigue; but even as her head fought him with every new rise of the sun, her heart beat only to see him - the fathomless pools of his cobalt eyes drinking in her very soul. Her body yearned for his searing touch and heated lips like the morning glory's yearned for the suns first kiss of life-giving light._

_He would never surrender...never; his heart was ironclad. No skinny, flaxen haired vixen was going to stake claim to it when all she seemed to do was ride his ire at every turn. However, despite his furtive thoughts, his blood boiled with molten need for her...his Callie. The need to see her honeyed eyes glazed over with desire for only him; the need to bury himself deep within her warmth and forget they were mortal enemies. His hands ached to know her - every angled, curved, softened inch of her...no matter if it cost him his self-respect...but it would never cost him his heart._

Love had conquered all, and Draken and Callie had finally surrendered to the driving force of it. She made him see the man he had been born to be and allowed him to become that man, as she nurtured and cherished him through the struggle to give up his devastating past and the hold it had always had on him. He gave himself to her completely - held nothing back. He encouraged her growth, both as a woman and as a person - believing with all his weathered heart that she was the reason he breathed.

_I could sure use a hero right now…_ Randi thought, smiling sadly to herself. She wrapped up the book, holding it to her chest after reading the final paragraph and pulling herself to a standing position. She tucked the book back into her saddle bag, mounted Pegasus, and slowly made her way back to the house.

۞۞۞۞

Somewhere around 4 o'clock on the next afternoon - not long after she returned home, Van Gables dropped by to check on her and Cody. He was her father's best friend and business associate. He had been to their house many times for dinner over the years and had literally watched Randi grow into the confident and tireless young woman that she was.

There had been high hopes for his son Chase and Randi; they were supposed to have grown up together and eventually get married – according to their parents – but Chase had been killed ten years ago while hiking in the mountains and Randi had grieved for him. He had been a bright spot in her life; a boy that she had been proud to call her friend.

Van was a huge man, sinking down into the living room couch with a grace that seemed out of place on a man his size. He had taken it upon himself to become a second father figure to Randi in the months after Chase's death. They had formed a rather odd bond, one tied by common loss and fond memories.

"I loved your Mom and Dad…I miss them terribly; it's still so painful."

His voice – always a bit on the scratchy side – was more emotionally charged than she had remembered. The funeral had been like an out-of-body experience for her and many of the others in attendance; Van was no exception; he was still coping with the loss of two of his closest and dearest friends.

"I know…thanks for being there for us, Mr. Gables…everyone has been really patient and kind." Randi stated, pushing back the tears before they started.

"I'm sorry I couldn't give you the money for the ranch, Randi…I suffered some losses of my own this past year and I have not recovered yet…I wish I could help."

She had gathered all of her nerve and swallowed her pride and asked Van Gables for a loan. He had once been one of the most lucrative businessman in the Northern part of Colorado; but there was a black cloud hanging over the area and many had been hit hard with financial loss.

"I understand Mr. Gables…really I do."

Randi had no idea where she found those words, because she really didn't. She needed help and Van Gables had been her last hope for redemption; with him unable to loan her the money, she had come to the realization that after the thirty days were up, she'd have to let the bank take the ranch…it was a bitter bite to swallow.

He stayed and talked for about an hour, just making sure that they had the basic needs covered and they wouldn't starve. He was a recent widower and was likely very lonely; Tess, his wife, had lost a three year battle with cancer not seven months back.

"You can just call me Van now, Randi; you're a grown woman…and a very lovely one, I might add."

She smiled at the compliment, feeling as though it had been her father's praise she was basking in…for he had never failed to tell her how beautiful she was. Mr. Gables was the closest thing she had to a father now…she supposed that should make her feel a little better.

But it didn't.

۞۞۞۞

Dinner that night didn't consist of much; Cody wasn't particularly hungry and Randi could not find the desire to eat. She had always had a healthy appetite, and had had the active metabolism to balance that appetite; but the last few weeks had drastically reduced her love of food, and she had lost a few pounds.

Grilled cheese and a can of pork and beans did it for them, and Cody seemed as happy with that as he would have had it been pizza from the local pizza place. He finished his light dinner and then headed into the living room to pop in a movie and curl up on the couch.

What chores they could do had all been done before dinner, but there just weren't enough hands on deck to do everything. Tomorrow, Randi would have to look into selling the majority of the horses and much of the equipment that was used to keep the ranch going…there was just no need to hold on to it. The money would not be near enough to keep the ranch, but it would alleviate some of the past due amount and the late charges; it pained her deeply for it to come down to that, but she saw no other way out.

_Lord, if You're in the miracle giving mood…I could still use one._ She looked out the window and watched the sunset; the beauty of it overwhelmed her once again. That in itself was a miracle, and she knew it; it felt as though He had done that just for her at that very moment as she stared out the window.

Turning away from the beautiful scene, Randi stepped into the living room briefly, and saw that Cody was watching, "Lord of the Rings", one of his favorite movies. She stepped up behind him and ruffled his tawny hair, "I'm going to take a bath and then go to bed…don't stay up too late." He assured her that he would not, and she trusted him.

The water seemed to ease the despair that was slowly seeping into her entire being. Randi began to wonder how long a person could survive with a hole in their heart. Having to accept defeat in any way when it came to the ranch was going to be the hardest thing she had ever done…but there was no use in denying it any longer.

Her animosity toward Scott had cooled into calm indifference toward him. He was just doing his job, after all, and she could not fault him for that. Her heart told her that he didn't have to seem so smug about the whole thing, but she may have imagined it…she would just have to make a promise to herself to avoid him if at all possible.

It was an hour or so after she remembered closing her eyes that she jerked herself awake. The water had cooled to a tepid, unsatisfying temperature and she was wrinkled from overexposure to the moisture. She drained a little of the water out and refilled it with hot water, then scrubbed herself clean before leaving the tub.

She shuffled to the bed, yawned daintily, and scooted beneath the sheets; nothing roused her until the next morning.

TBC


	9. Chapter 9

Well, so it begins. From here on out, I am taking liberties with realism. I have done my best to come up with some plausible explanations for events that happen in Erik's life; but bear in mind, this IS a work of fiction and some things may NOT be plausible.

I hope you will enjoy it nevertheless.

TIME BETWEEN US

CHAPTER 9

_September 28, 1874_

Frustrated, but much smarter, Erik stood with hands on hips and scowled toward the heavens with closed eyes. Several tests had been conducted, and it was quite obvious that going back in time was out of the question. Every time he set the date for a time in the past, the machine just kept spinning; leaving Erik to exit the chamber sick to his stomach and with his equilibrium all off.

"I knew this…" Erik whispered to himself, shaking the grogginess from his mind, "…so much for going back and doing things differently with Christine."

When he really thought about it, the concept of going back in time was just too fantastic; fantastic meaning inconceivable. Someone who could go back in time could take scientific discoveries back and rewrite history…not a calamity that Erik wanted on anyone's shoulders, let alone his own. It was too much power for one person to wield. He immediately went back to work, preparing himself for another journey - this time, it would a success - he knew it.

۞۞۞۞

_Two weeks before..._

He knew he had to plan for the future…literally. His money would be no good as it was. It was only a week after Casper's death that he found himself on the train headed back to Paris. He had all but promised himself he would never return, but he owed her an explanation and an apology.

Paris was familiar to him…the catacombs and underground passages had been his way around the city on many occasions; they would now be his stronghold. Paying those around him little mind, Erik spent the entire trip locked in his private cabin reading a book. The numerous stares he had received just stepping onto the train were enough to last him two lifetimes; but as Paris came into view, a strange melancholy fell over him, and he smiled reflectively.

Paris had not changed, and once Erik exited the train he made his way to the tunnels that had hidden him from the cruelties of the world. There was one, in particular, where he was headed. Careful to avoid detection or attention, he kept to the shadows and simply disappeared.

The darkness of the passages was of little consequence, for Erik knew the way without his eyes and without hesitation. He knew precisely where he was going, he had been there many times over the years. He had marked the tomb so that he would never forget its exact location.

He rubbed his hand tenderly over the cold stone that housed the body he had lovingly placed there more years ago than he cared to count. He felt the infernal sting of tears in his eyes and his heart wretched from an emotion he felt he had no right to feel.

Despite what everyone thought, Erik knew more than he revealed about his true identity. The years had allowed him enough time to do the necessary research to learn the facts and discover the truth about his parent's motives and the reason he remembered only the gypsies from as far back as he could recall.

He had watched her die…a horrible, excruciating death that he could do nothing about. She did not know who he was, but she welcomed his presence in her last moments. Every breath she took brought her another bout of blood-tinted coughing and the fire in her chest would not cease. She had deserved a far better life than she had been given; but they took that from her – years ago.

At fifteen, she had been thrust from the only home she had known after a marquis, twice her age, had seduced and enticed her, left his seed growing in her womb, and then had simply disappeared. She was the only daughter of a Baron and the apple of his eye, Archard Marchand could no longer bare the sight of her – so he turned her out – leaving her at the mercy of the ton.

The ton had not been kind. Shunned by society as a fallen woman, Ella had scraped floors, cleaned up after the most disgusting and depraved of society's members, and stood against the ridicule and abuse of those who considered themselves above her; she had grown up quickly and harshly.

Alone and hardened when it came time to birth her baby, Ella found the underground tunnels of Paris were the best place to muffle the screams of childbirth and cover the blood trail she would undoubtedly leave behind. Her anguished cries attracted the attention of a vagrant whose home was amongst the bones and ash of the catacombs. He did what he could to ease the torment she was experiencing, and in the end, he saved her life – and broke her heart.

The boy child was tiny, but perfect; born with no visible signs of the suffering he had brought to his mother. With a head full of dark, wavy hair and long, sooty lashes, Erik Tremeur Marchand was a beautiful angel in his mother's eye. Weak from the ordeal and eager to nurse her newborn son, Ella curled up in a corner and slept with him at her breast.

An hour or so later, when she awoke, the vagrant was gone – and so was her son. As fate would have it, the vagrant owed a debt of flesh to a gypsy witch, and he delivered the boy child to her. He watched callously as she carved a mark into the soft, untouched cheek of the infant; the brand marked him as flesh payment for a debt owed and a slave to the haggard, wrinkled woman.

It was years later before the son was able to find out the truth and be at his mother's side as she drew her last breath. He had cherished the frail body as he carried her to a hidden chamber he had fashioned within one of the many tunnels leading to and from the opera house and below the Paris streets.

And now, here he stood; the lonely truth of it all left him feeling empty inside…again. He had never confided in Bernadette; never confided in anyone; he had held the pain within and allowed it to eat away at his soul and humanity and make into the Phantom, but he wanted no more of it – he would try to live the life his mother had been denied.

"I will entrust my future to you, mother. I hope you understand why I am doing this…I must. If I cannot fix the past, I have no future in this century - I must move on."

Even the softness of his whisper seemed to penetrate the stone walls and taint the sacredness of the air. He had rigged the tomb years ago and after he pushed the stone cross that guarded the contents, a compartment opened at the far end of the sarcophagus and Erik placed his gold bars and coins within it.

_I must trust that if I go forward in time that gold will continue to increase in value._ Erik thought, feeling within himself that it would.

The compartment was large and had held his mother's cherished baubles and other things; but now it would hold his livelihood. Twenty rare coins he had found beneath the opera house as a child, and two 20lb gold bars he had purchased with the last of his money. The coins were in mint condition, as were all things Erik treasured, and carefully tucked within carved out pages of a very large book. The bars were 99.9 pure gold and represented every material thing that Erik owned – except for one rare coin he would carry on his person for immediate use in the future.

He locked the secret compartment once again and took the time to carve his mothers name in the stone, a marker that would only hold significance to him, should this area be discovered and the stone coffin moved to one of Paris' grave yards.

There was only one thing left to do before he bid this century goodbye; he owed her an explanation and an apology – it was the least he could do. He walked the maze of caverns that led to the entrance of the opera house, and surfaced under the evening sky. The sight before him literally ripped the air right out of him. Where the opera house had once stood, was the beginnings of a new structure. Erik approached the ominous building with reserved interest. There were announcements everywhere:

**_Académie Nationale de Musique – Théâtre de l'Opéra to open January 15, 1875._** **_Performing the third act of Fromental Halévy's 1835 opera La Juive, along with excerpts from Giacomo Meyerbeer's 1836 opera Les Huguenots._**

**_The ballet company will perform a grand Divertissement staged by the Paris Opéra's Maître de Ballet en Chef Louis Méranté, which consists of the celebrated scene Le Jardin Animé from Joseph Mazilier's 1867 revival of his ballet Le Corsaire, set to the music of Léo Delibes._**

Erik was dumbfounded; what had happened? He read on and found the architect to be Charles Garnier. The name was familiar to Erik; he had had the privilege of meeting Mr. Garnier one time several years ago. He was one man that he could say he truly admired; a veritable genius in Erik's mind.

Leaving the ghostly residue of his past behind, Erik made his way through the evening fog and stood in front of the last known home of Madam Bernadette Giry. It had not changed, and Erik could smell the aroma of freshly baked bread. The growl in his stomach reminded him that he had not eaten since the night before, and he was extremely hungry.

Sighing loudly, Erik nervously knocked on the front door, anxious to make sure she held no lasting hatred toward him. The night was cool and moist, but Erik hardly noticed the dampness that shrouded him; such was his resolve. When the door opened, he was unprepared for her immediate reaction.

"Erik!" The only word she spoke for a few moments as she touched him: his cheeks, his shoulders, his arms; and finally, she touched his eyes with hers. "I thought for certain that I would never see you again."

He smiled, genuinely, for perhaps the first time since she had known him. It caused a remarkable transformation from his brooding, stoic handsomeness into a devastatingly roguish attractiveness that would easily sweep any woman off her feet.

"Let me look at you!" She circled him like a woman picking the choicest fruit from the corner stand, and then pulled him in for another hug. "You seem taller; more sure of yourself…are you doing well where you are?"

His answering smile just made her want to hug him all over again. "How rude of me…come in out of the damp and warm yourself; I have just prepared dinner and there is plenty for you."

She was puttering about in a nervous flutter, fussing over him in such a way that Erik threw his hands up in surrender, "Bernadette…slow down…it has only been two and half years." Erik chuckled. "You do not need to cater to me, I am fine."

She brushed his protestations to the side and drew him into the house. He hardly had time to remove his cloak and hat before she pulled him into the parlor by the fire. "Where have you been all this time? Christine and I looked for you for weeks and could not find one clue about where you had gone."

The mention of Christine's name did not bring the searing pain that Erik had been certain it would; instead, he felt a profound sadness at the loss of her smile in his dreary life. His countenance did not change, however, and Bernadette had no inkling that he had taken the last two and half years to purge his heart of Christine's ownership.

After thirty years of life, Erik had no clue who he was and no idea where he was going; and for the first time in his life there was fear settling in his bones. Despite this, he was determined to do what he had to do to be more than what he was. If he had to spend the rest of his life with only himself as company, he was most certainly going to be a much better companion.

A flash of subdued anger, mixed with sadness, flashed in his eyes when he realized how pleased Bernadette was to see him. Perhaps she would actually miss him when he was gone from her life for good; that thought truly saddened him.

"I must apologize for my abrupt departure; I had to do some soul searching and I knew that I could not do it here." Erik smiled down at her before taking a seat in the offered chair. "That said; I felt I owed you an explanation and an apology."

Sweeping her hand in the air as though clearing it of some foul agent, Bernadette lifted her lips in a friendly smirk. "You owe me nothing, Erik. Your life is your own and you may go anywhere you please…however, a good-bye would have been appreciated."

Erik chuckled and nodded in response; his heart felt relief at knowing that she held no contempt toward him. "I realize that; please accept my humble apology for my lack of sensitivity in this matter."

He took a deep drink of the black coffee that Bernadette had prepared, and leaned back in the high-back chair to relax. He crossed his long legs; looking very much the noble gentleman in waiting.

"What happened to the opera house?"

Bernadette's brow furrowed upon hearing the pain in Erik's tone.

"It burned down last year…Garnier won the bid to build the new opera house and it opens in January."

Erik was looking anywhere but at her, and she felt the tension in him as if it were her own. He had stated many times that the Populaire had needed repairs and updating, but no one had paid him any mind. Now, they had paid for their ignorance and procrastination.

"Was anyone hurt?" Erik mumbled, dreading her answer.

"No…we all got out in time." Bernadette answered, reliving that terrible day in her mind. "Garnier is planning on keeping the underground lake and caverns; he thinks they add to the persona of the opera house and its history."

It had been his home, for what it was worth. Erik had enjoyed the solitude on many occasions; escaping the hounding scrutiny of mankind and locking himself away for days on end had been his way of holding onto his sanity on many occasions. He was happy to know that Garnier was not going to destroy the only home he had ever known.

Bernadette rubbed her palms together and stood up, "Well, shall we eat?"

He followed her into the small but well-designed dining area and pulled the chair out for her to sit upon, then seated himself next to her. The meal was simple but fulfilling, as was the company.

"Where is Meg, I know she has grown considerably in the two years I have been gone…what is she now….eighteen?"

Meg was the only child that Bernadette had been able to conceive during her short marriage to Thomas Giry. He had been nothing if not a cad, and Erik had all but warned her against him; but she had been in love – or so she thought – and he left her stranded and pregnant five months after finding out he was going to be a father.

"She is upstairs preparing for her audition tomorrow. She has been training to be a dancer and tomorrow will be her opportunity."

Bernadette seemed on the verge of tears; an embarrassing development for her and a frustrating one for Erik…he had little experience where women were concerned; especially emotional ones.

"She is growing up so fast, Erik…before long I will have to search for a suitable husband for her."

The thought of Meg being anywhere near men sent a sick cringe of Erik's spine. He had been there when she was a newborn; he had actually held her in his arms and fed her…how could he release her to a man of any kind – even if he were worthy of her.

"Come now, Bernadette, she is only eighteen. You do not have to marry her off to some old codger just yet…let her enjoy her dancing for a while."

"I will not have her be an old maid…not like I was….eager to have the first man who showed any interest in me." Bernadette seethed.

The anger she felt at herself had been festering for years, but she seldom allowed it out to vent. Thomas had been a mistake, she knew that, but that mistake had given her the most precious gift she had ever received, Meg.

"Would not you rather she marry for love, rather than you arranging a marriage for her?"

Erik supposed it was a romantic notion; the majority of people married for reasons other than love. He would settle for nothing less even though he knew the chances were practically nil that anyone would ever love him in such a manner.

"Of course, but look where love and attraction got me, Erik…I want better for her."

"Not all men are like Thomas, Bernadette, you know this…" Erik explained, not sure why he was defending any future mate for the girl he was never going to see grow up, "…just do not jump to any hasty decisions."

"I know that there are good men out there…." She looked up at him and smiled, "you are a prime example…" she chuckled when one brow arched way up and his eyes darkened in disbelief, "…I just want the best for her."

The meal was finished and Erik and Bernadette sat in the parlor drinking Brandy. Erik sloshed the amber liquid gently in the tall glass he had been given before swallowing the last of it.

"I am not going to be able to come back, Bernadette, this will be the last you see of me."

She drew her breath in sharply, causing a whimper, "No Erik…there is no need for this." He could hear the tears in her voice and it wretched his heart, "I thought you were coming to stay when I saw you at my door."

He could feel the panic welling up in his chest as she scooted closer to him on the couch. She leaned in and put her head in the crook of his arm and wept. Instinctively, he patted her back in a gentle, methodical rhythm and fought back the tears that were building in his eyes.

"I have to find myself. I no longer belong in this world…I need more than it has to offer." He tried to explain, "I just could not go without apologizing to you."

The way he spoke left Bernadette with a dreadful feeling in the pit of her stomach; she lifted up and turned his chin toward her to stare into his eyes, "What do you mean by that….what are you going to do."

Erik smiled sadly and stood up, "I am not going to harm myself, Bernadette; I have moved past that, I assure you….I just will not be coming back."

Bernadette hung her head and twisted her hands, "Do you wish to say good-bye to Christine….she would want to know that you are doing fine? She misses you…I think you should see her.

Erik doubted that…he meant nothing to her, and he probably never had. He could just imagine the complete horror his former student and her husband would feel at seeing him again; it was best to leave things as they were.

"No…" Erik stated quietly, "…I have nothing left to say."

She tried several more times as the night progressed, asking him to take the short ride over to the nearby boarding house where Christine had taken a room; but Erik refused. Bernadette knew that he would never accept that Christine loved him as a dear, personal friend; she had been inconsolable for weeks after he had disappeared.

"All she wants for you is joy and love, Erik…you must know that. She never meant to cast doubt in your heart or mind; or to reject your offer of marriage in such a way. She honestly thought you were playing another of your practical jokes on her."

"Yes, the idea that anyone would want to marry me is a joke of huge proportions…I laughed for hours." Erik growled, sardonically.

Bernadette cast him a long, sad look, "That is not what she meant." But she could tell by his tone that he had taken it that way; and the thought saddened her deeply. Christine never forgave herself for acting as she did; and Erik…he never forgave himself for anything.

"They have not married yet…Raoul's parents are not keen on the idea and he is waiting for their approval; especially his father's blessing…." Bernadette stated nervously, "….Raoul's inheritance and title are resting on it."

A low growl sounded in his throat, "They should count their blessings at having a son of quality like Raoul who loves a woman of quality…" Erik hissed. He violently shook his head at the absurdity of it all, "…it no longer concerns me…I must move on." Erik could allow no more of his life to be sopped up in concern for Christine and her Prince Charming; it hurt too much.

Bernadette left the subject alone, knowing she would never tell Christine that she had seen him again…it was best she thought him gone for good.

They talked and laughed for a few more hours, but in the end….Erik left. Their parting was sorrowful and permanent, and both were hurting in many ways…but their time had come to pass.

۞۞۞۞

He had not realized how difficult it would be to part with Daffy. He and that pesky horse had managed to develop a trust between them that would have rivaled any best friend relationship. Although he was stubborn and mule-headed, Erik suspected the stallion thought the same of him; and they were both correct.

There had never been a time when Erik could actually bring himself to conquer the riding part, but he had learned to brush Daffy's coat until it shined and talked to him as though he were human. There were even times when Erik could swear the animal understood every word he spoke; batting his long, brown lashes with sincerity and holding a guileless stare knowing he had nothing to hide.

Now, standing in front of the doctor and his young daughter with Daffy being annoyingly cooperative, Erik felt this heartstrings being pulled at the thought of leaving him. Daffy's big, brown eyes seemed to know exactly what was going on and that made Erik even more miserable.

"He is cantankerous toward me most of the time, but I have watched him with Coralia on several occasions when we have come into town…he seems to enjoy her company and is very gentle toward her."

Erik did not understand why he was shining a good light on the blasted horse…it just meant that they would part that much faster.

"Yes….I have seen that too…he is a very big, strong horse and will be good for my farm, but I think Coralia holds a special place in his heart." Doctor Vega looked at Daffy with open admiration.

"He answers only to Daffy or Daffodil…whichever you wish…" Erik admitted with a chuckle, "…a present from the previous young girl who raised him."

There was no money exchanged, as Erik knew the young doctor and his family was always struggling; Daffy would be happy and loved in their care….

….so why did it still hurt so bad?

۞۞۞۞

_September 30, 1874_

He stood beside DIANA again, talking to the machine as though she could hear him. The task was daunting, but Erik knew he had to move forward in time. He had no idea what to expect…the past was laid out for him, the future was unwritten; and once he got wherever he was going, he could never go back to where he had been. The prospect of it terrified him.

It was still very early in the day, and he had only tried twice to go back in time. There would be no "trying" when it came to moving forward, Erik was certain of that. Wherever he set the date for, that was where he would be stuck.

He had given it a great deal of thought over the past few weeks; there was no logical way to pick a year…so he used items. What was used the most when DIANA had been constructed…Erik thought about all of the drawings and samples that Casper had shown him.

Only one stood out. One hundred and thirty-three spring coils had been used within the moving mechanism…so Erik set the year for one hundred and thirty-three years in the future…2007. Calculating the date to the correct year and making sure the latitude and longitude were correct, Erik breathed deeply, taking in the reality of it; his heart was literally leaping in his chest, anticipating the event to come.

Once all calculations were done and DIANA was ready, Erik sat down within the chamber and waited…he was not even sure what he was waiting for…he just knew he needed to wait.

Erik had always prided himself on being courageous, despite the drawbacks he had in his life. The scars on his face had always afforded him a rather large leeway when it came to speaking his mind; knowing that what he was saying was true, people either listened and respected him or they despised him; and nothing he would say or do would change their mind.

However, he was petrified at the prospect of flinging himself into the great unknown; unsure of his destination and unfamiliar with the times. He was not the kind of man who blended well with his surroundings; what if 2007 France was even more hateful and judgmental towards his kind, and he was more of an outcast there then he was in 1872?

He would not allow himself to think about it. He did a last minute inventory check…making sure that the coin was safely tucked into the inside pocket of his jacket, and the satchel contained a great deal of the music he had written throughout the years. Going against everything that had been the normal in his life so far, Erik knew he would have to rely on the kindness of strangers to get by, and that was perhaps the most terrifying thought of them all.

Cranking DIANA with all that he had in him, she finally gained enough momentum to move on her own…gaining speed with every full circle. After a few minutes at full speed with the chamber spinning vertically and the machine spinning horizontally, DIANA began slowing down and eventually came to a complete stop. The chamber spun a few more times and finally stopped.

Erik was gone.

۞۞۞۞

_September 30, 2007_

What had started out as an ordinary day was turning into a strange night. There was an unexpected and uncharted storm brewing in the sky just behind the house and on the edge of her property; Randi rushed off the porch to discern what needed to be done before it hit…and only moments later, it was upon her; driving rain pounded cold divots into her skin and bounced off the ground, forming puddles everywhere she could see. A frigid wind blew in from nowhere, leaving Randi shivering in the night.

She had just made it to the gate of the corral to lock the horses in the barn when a lightning bolt struck the ground not twenty feet from where she stood; the force of it knocked her off her feet and onto her bottom, landing her hard and abrupt upon the unforgiving land.

As quickly as the storm had been upon her, it was gone; leaving an eerie stillness behind that sent shivers up her spine…. it was as though Christ had stepped onto the clouds, lifted His hand, and simply said, "Peace, be still." Even the trees did not rustle; no movement, no sound…nothing.

She expected to hear from a burning bush next, warning her she was on holy ground; but there wasn't even a bird chirping. _What is going on?_ Randi asked herself, even more perplexed with the knowledge that she had no fear in her soul…only peace. _When peace like a river attendeth my soul…_the old hymn sounded in her head, its familiar melody strengthening her. _…it is well…it is well with my soul._

That inner voice that we so often ignore whispered in Randi's subconscious, and she felt the tug of awareness grip her heart. As though angel hands had come upon her to guide her in the right direction, Randi turned her head toward the trees behind her house; and the fence that separated her property from the state park.

Had it not been for the illuminating light of the sinking sun and the perfect eyesight she had inherited from her father, she would have never seen the man lying on the ground, face down. Although her better judgment told her to leave him there, her humanity would not allow it. Was he hurt badly or worse, dead? Where had he come from? Why was he here of all places?

She lifted her head to peer into the darkening sky, hoping there would be some answers presented to her; but none were forthcoming. She ran toward the still man, the mud barely hindering her steps and was thankful to see that he was on her side of the fence…at least she wouldn't have to struggle to get him over it.

Squatting beside him, Randi examined him with curious eyes. He was lying on his side with his head resting on his arm; the other arm extended in front of him and his legs were straight out…at least it appeared he had no broken bones. The side of his face that was facing her seemed to have some disfigurement or something…it was quite hard to tell without the proper lighting. She would have a hard time moving him, he was broad and tall and very unconscious.

Kneeling down, Randi tried to rouse him with just her voice, "Hey there…mister?"

There was no response, so she gently shook him, hoping to awaken him. He didn't awaken, but she was relieved to hear a slight moan. His eyes remained shut but she had hopes that he was not injured badly; it was hard to tell in his present state.

"Sir…can you stand?" she sure hoped so, "I need to get you into the house before you really get sick."

He stirred slightly, trying to lift himself, but failed miserably. Randi put her arms under his arms and tried to lift him, and this seemed to encourage his participation more. He sat up and turned to look at her, his face hidden in the shadowed corners of the dusky light; but Randi could feel his gaze upon her.

He managed to pull himself to a standing position, and Randi realized just how tall he was. "Are you able to walk?" she asked again, firmly gripping his arm in case he fell.

He wrenched out of her grasp and simply nodded. Randi, ignoring his attempt to pull out of her grasp again, gently pulled his arm around her shoulder and supported his weight against her much smaller frame. She could tell by the disapproving grunt, that he was not pleased with the idea, but there was little she could do about it.

"Try and be a bit more cooperative…I don't bite and I certainly am not going to hurt you."

He didn't respond, at least not verbally. He grunted again and seemed to concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other. He was leaning heavily on her, but Randi could feel the muscles in play across his back and in the arm that was propped over her shoulders. His clothing was heavy and drenched with rain; nothing about him seemed the least bit familiar, so Randi assumed he was from out of town.

_But what landed him here…of all places?_ She asked herself, determined not to fall beneath the weight of his body.

They had only walked a few yards, when he seemed to come to his senses of sorts, and twisted away from her. He walked staggeringly toward the house, determined to make it on his own.

It was hard to see him in the moonlight; leaving his looks a mystery. But as far as Randi could tell, he was somewhere around thirty; tall, with long, dark hair. She had no bad vibes from him, that was a good thing; and she didn't think he was some sort of criminal…but that would be the first thing she asked him when they got in the house.

However, he was no more in the door, when the tall stranger stopped his forward progress, his knees buckled, and he collapsed in the middle of the floor. Randi rushed to his side, noticing for the first time that blood was freely flowing from his torn hands and was forming a large, red stain on his chest, ruining his white shirt.

"Cody!!"

The boy came rushing out of the back room and skidded to a halt when he saw the man on the floor. She rushed past her brother to the kitchen and grabbed a fist full of paper towels. She was back by his side in no time, wrapping his wounded hands in the towels and holding them to his chest.

"What happened…who is he?"

Cody was full of questions, but he helped his sister lift the unconscious man and carry him to the large couch in the living room. It was a harrowing task; he might as well have been twice the size of Cody and he was several inches taller than Randi…and appeared to be made of solid rock.

"Where did you find him?" Cody asked, his eyes never leaving the stranger.

"He just showed up out of nowhere during the storm….he collapsed on the south fence and I was lucky to see him."

Randi reached a tentative hand to his torn flesh. His hands had apparently reached out to soften his fall and the barbed wire had embedded in his flesh. They were torn in several places, and the paper towels were becoming saturated. The area on his chest remained a mystery, as Randi did not feel right in removing his shirt to get a better look, she would leave that for the doctor.

"He may need stitches." Randi picked up the phone and called Dr. Heinz, the family doctor who had treated her for years. She knew he would come to the house and help in whatever way he could.

_"Miranda Willows…it has been a long time, Child."_

She smiled into the phone, "Yes, it has been…thank goodness. Do you still make house calls?"

She heard his soft sigh on the other end, he was getting old and probably didn't like to come out at night, but she also knew his oath would not allow him to resist the urge to heal if he could.

_"What's wrong…who needs help?"_

"A man I stumbled over tonight during the storm…he has been injured terribly by the barbed wire on my fence and I think he may need stitches."

Dr. Heinz chuckled, and she could almost see his head shaking in disbelief, _"Still taking in strays it would seem…" _He stated with amusement, _"…I'll be right over."_

Clicking the phone off, Randi went back to her stranger's side and gently pulled the strands of dark hair from his face revealing his chiseled jaw and cheekbones, the gentle slant of his forehead, his straight, aristocratic nose; full, teasing lips, and those long, dusty lashes resting provocatively upon his cheeks. She tenderly caressed his right cheek, noting that what she had thought was a disfigurement was actually an oddly shaped scar.

She signed in wonderment, convincing herself that he was lovely eye candy, but he was probably a jerk when he opened his mouth. _There are few men around that aren't jerks…their minds are always occupied with one thing and once they have it, they never want anything more to do with you._ A brisk vision of Bracy filled her mind and she could feel herself getting sick with just the thought of the man.

Determined to stay her opinion of him until she was able to defend himself, Randi waited on the doctor; and she didn't have to wait long.

TBC


	10. Chapter 10

I have some good news and some bad news...

The bad news is (at least as far as this story goes) that I am going to be moving on July 21st to my brand new house. I will not have internet service for about 2 months. Therefore, I will not be able to post any new chapters for that length of time. I do apologize.

The good news is that I will post as many chapters as I can up and to that point.

I will be back, just be patient and don't forget about, TIME BETWEEN US. I will probably be able to start on my next story too...so, it's not all bad.

Thanks for the reviews!!

TIME BETWEEN US

CHAPTER 10

It was all a bad dream…he would wake up and it would have all been just an amusing trip through his own sick mind; the problem was, he couldn't even muster the strength to lift his eyelids.

And what a storm! Winds like he had never witnessed before…practically sweeping him off his feet, and he wasn't a small man…the whole thing was amazing! The rain had seemed so real…pounding into his flesh with such force as to create divots in his skin; but, he had always had an active imagination. It had been one of his companions throughout his miserable existence: his music, his arts, and his imagination; what strange bedfellows they all made.

He was lying down, but he didn't remember getting to the bed; all he remembered was a voice in his head – urging him to find the strength to stand; a sweet, guarded voice that had to belong to some divine creature with strong, sure hands and the patience to deal with him.

_You have finally done it Erik…your mind is gone and now you must rely on your good looks to get by._ He thought, self-mockingly.

As ridiculously comical as that thought was, Erik did not laugh. He seemed to be hurting everywhere. He pooled his strength and opened his eyes…hoping to find that the last two and half years of his life had all been a delusional trip into his demented and damaged mind. Perhaps he had turned to morphine or laudanum after Christine had torn his heart out, and he was just now coming off a two-year, drug-induced journey.

However, Casper's voice was still so fresh in his mind, as were his timeless tales of God's love and time travel. _I could not have imagined such a man…even I am not that crazy!  
_

Viewing his surroundings with guarded interest, he found he was resting comfortably in a very soft, feminine smelling bed, surrounded by many strange objects. Pictures scattered the walls…photographs it seemed. Erik had difficulty focusing, but they looked harmless enough. A mountain of plush, soft animals stared back at him from the foot of the bed, they were lined up as though awaiting execution: a white, long-haired cat with black eyes, an interesting looking unicorn, something that appeared to be a colorful, harmless looking dragon; and oddly, a pillow with a hairy, grotesque looking beast with huge teeth and big eyes adorning the surface of it.

He blinked a couple of times, opened his eyes again, and frowned when nothing had changed. _Where am I?_

He tried to focus his eyes, but there was still a pounding in his head that threatened to leave him incapacitated if it did not cease – and quickly. The hands he drew to his forehead were bandaged, neatly and cleanly, leaving Erik to wonder what in the world had happened to him. His thoughts were still fuzzy, if what was going through his mind gave any indication.

He ached everywhere and although the scientist in him longed to set up and survey his surroundings even more, the pragmatic side of him knew he needed rest. He settled back down into the pillows, once again eyeing the stuffed animals that seemed to be guarding him. Wherever he was and whoever's room he was in…he felt strangely comforted. That thought did make him laugh; c_omforted...when is the last time I felt comforted by anything or anyone other than Bernadette?  
_

Assessing his peculiar surroundings, Erik deduced that the room he was in belonged to a young girl - or had at one time. _I do hope she has not been frightened off because of my hideous appearance. _ Erik didn't like the idea of being observed and ridiculed while he slept. He had less experience with children than he did with women, but he knew they were curious little brutes with a large dose of candor and absolutely no tact.

He arose off the bed far enough to catch his reflection in the mirror that hung on the back of the door. His scar was prominent and mocking, his hair was askew, he had scars all over his chest and arms; _I remember having a shirt on.._.panicking, Erik pulled the sheet up to peek beneath it. _Whew! I am still clothed! _His suddenly sober eyes scanned his surroundings, his jacket and vest were resting on the large chair in the corner of the room, but he still had his pants on_._

He visibly relaxed and breathed a sigh of relief, "At least my dignity is still intact."He looked at the large bandage on his chest and tried to remember how it had gotten there, but he was having no luck.

He was horrified by the thought of anyone, especially a girl of any age, undressing him and putting him to bed. Besides being indecent – it was also highly improper; there were parts of his body that even he did not care to look upon – let alone some young, impressionable girl.

_I can hear it now...some poor mother trying to explain to her young daughter that not all men are as hideous as I am...I am sure that would be an interesting conversation._

Erik's self-deprecating thoughts were interrupted by the abrupt entrance of a woman carrying what appeared to be bandages and some sort of elixir. She had yet to look his way, but Erik pulled the covers further over his naked chest and was busy adjusting them for maximum coverage when he heard the young woman gasp and the items she carried tumble to the ground.

Erik was quite used to such a reaction when it came to his face, that he hardly blinked his frustration. She was older than he had originally thought; though still, she was fairly young – mid-twenties perhaps. She was dressed in form fitting breeches made of a course looking blue material and a skimpy top with no sleeves and a rather low neckline; upon seeing the expanse of her creamy skin, Erik immediately dropped his eyes.

"Oh! You startled me…I did not expect you to awaken just yet…." She looked around the room with what Erik took to be panic or embarrassment in her eyes, "…Dr. Heinz thought you'd be out for a couple more days."

_How marvelous...some doctor was here to gawk at me while I was none the wiser. I wonder if he is out selling tickets as we speak, 'Come and see the monster; alive and kicking! Come and see it before we have to put it down.' _He almost laughed at the crudity of it.

She bent down to pick up the fallen bandages and elixir, and Erik put aside the biting thoughts in his mind and noticed the abundant drape of hair that fell over her shoulder; it was the color of a deep, fiery sunset, Erik found his eyes glued to it. He had never seen such a color before…not in hair. As she stood back up, Erik noticed that she was very feminine in all the right places, and as she came closer, her eyes were a light mossy green.

"Are you feeling better?"

Her quiet question made his brow arch in surprise and the aqua green of his eyes grow even deeper. They disturbed her – his eyes – not in a bad way, but they were so fathomless and consuming that when she looked into them, Randi almost forgot her name.

At first, Randi thought he was deaf and had not heard her address him, but when he finally shook his head, indicating that he did feel better - she knew he had heard her. He certainly was not offering any other information, and seemed to carry an edge in his stare that spoke of pain.

Without any hesitation, Randi went to his side and set about changing the bandages on his hands. They were nice hands; long, tapered fingers with small calluses on the tips, a slight tan, and clean fingernails. The wounds were almost healed and Randi gently cleansed them as she had been instructed and changed the wrappings.

Erik watched with rapt attention as she tended to his wounds. Her determination and attentiveness convinced him she had to be some sort of nurse, but he was certain he was not in a hospital. She caressed his wounded hands with the soft pads of her fingers and seemed intrigued by them…even awed. No one had ever so willingly touched him…except Bernadette; and she had sometimes had the rough hands of a motherly figure.

This angel put his hands down and stuffed her own into the pockets of her very form-fitting trousers. Erik's eyes were immediately drawn to her legs and he drank them in before averting his eyes and silently scolding his bold interest._ No woman wants a creature like you ogling her…get a hold of yourself!_

"I'll turn on the TV now that you're awake."

She stood up and moved away from him to turn a knob that was attached to a large box looking item. Immediately, a moving picture appeared on the box and Erik almost jumped out of his skin. Mesmerizing sounds and colors skirted across the box, music came from somewhere and Erik was instantly captivated.

There was a long, pregnant pause as she waited for him to say something – but he never did – his eyes never wandering from the moving picture box. She finally clapped her hands together quietly, "It is almost dinner time; you must be starved after being unconscious for three days….I'll bring you some dinner."

Barely hearing anything she was saying – but very aware of her – Erik tried to keep his eyes from following her. He heard her quietly shut the door leaving him alone with his own, wandering thoughts and a crazy talking box.

_I think it is safe to say that I have successfully traveled forward in time…that would explain a few oddities that I have already encountered._ His eyes once again focused on the "picture box", _I cannot give any outward indication that I am surprised in any way by the things that go on around me…or that I see or hear. _

He frowned deeply, _The girl was speaking a peculiar form of English and the voices coming out of that strange box are speaking in much the same language…I do not think I am in France anymore._

That thought gave him a slight tremor…where had he gone wrong in the calculations? He should still be in France but he was not. How could the longitude and latitude have changed in the short time he had checked it and the moment he had been flung through time?

A sick feeling settled deep within him as he remembered his knee knocking against something in the final spin before entering the wormhole. He must have altered the settings on the dial before the final thrust…and the results had landed him here…wherever "here" was.

"We succeeded Casper…but now I have no idea how I am going to cope with this!" Erik whispered with caged enthusiasm.

Thankful that he had not been deeply locked within himself due to some sort of addiction problem, Erik let it all came back to him, in vivid colors: Casper, DIANA, the research, the trial and error – everything. He had traveled through time and landed in this woman's back yard…literally. She had risked her own health to haul his wet, immobilized body into her home and had allowed him to sleep undisturbed; a kindness he had seldom been shown.

While she was still foremost on his mind, the young woman knocked on the door and entered after a few seconds. She carried a tray with a steaming bowl of something that smelled delicious. Erik tried to set up straighter in the bed, but found that putting pressure on his hands caused sharp, shooting pains to ride up his arms.

"You'll have a hard time handling a spoon with those bandages on her hands, why don't you allow me to feed you."

Placing the tray down, she didn't ask, she just picked up the spoon, scooped it through the burning liquid, blew on it, and then caught Erik's eyes on her. They said, "I don't think so", with their intensity – even though he did not speak a word.

Randi stubbornly lifted her chin, challenging him with the same intense stare, and continued to hold the spoon in front of his mouth until he opened it and ate. She would not back down.

"You'll never win this…I have had to feed Cody too many times when he was sick, and I always won in the long run. Of course, he's only a child and you are a man of about thirty…but the concept is still the same."

_Well…the cheeky wench has guessed my age, challenged my stubbornness with her own, and seems refreshingly unaffected by my ugliness._

To reward her determination, Erik opened his mouth and accepted the soup. It was quite tasty – despite being fed to him as though he were an infant. Erik knew he couldn't handle the spoon, but he certainly did not appreciate having to be reminded of that fact.

"You don't say much do you?" She stated, waiting for his response – which never came. "Anyway, you've been out for a little over 36 hours….you ran a fever and mumbled a lot…but I didn't murder you while you slumbered…" his brow arched beautifully at that statement, and Randi couldn't help smiling brightly and teasing him just a little, "…that's a good thing."

In actual fact, Randi had been scared to death. His fever had escalated as soon as she, Dr. Heinz, and Cody had managed to drop his heavy, very solidly built body, on the bed. He seemed to drift in and out of consciousness, but most of the time he had been delirious. She had taken liberties that she was certain were not going to go unnoticed by removing the fine waist coat, the vest, and his shirt. His shoulders were wide and supported two well-toned, muscular arms, which in turn tapered down to very masculine, long-fingered, well-manicured hands.

His jumbled words – muttered while he slept – had been in French; so Randi deduced he was either from France or Canada – or perhaps New Orleans. Dr. Heinz had returned twice to give a penicillin shot and to check the stitching; after that, he had seemed to improve. Thank heavens, now he looked at her with full knowledge of his current state, and he appeared to be calm…so far…but slightly confused.

She managed to feed him the entire contents of the bowl and Erik had taken the time to examine her closely. She was a beauty, that was obvious, but she had spirit like no woman he had ever known. She was strong and confident, but very feminine; and from the way she spoke, she was well-educated; not that any of these qualities mattered to him.

_What do I care if she is beautiful? It does not matter one bit, I will not allow myself to make the same mistake twice.  
_

Erik had pretty much written off the entire female gender…knowing that there would never be one who would accept him – flaws and all. Logically, he knew he had never given them much of a chance, but it didn't take a genius to know he was not attractive; he had learned that lesson hard and well.

* * *

The second day of consciousness was much like the one before; she fed him, read to him, talked to him – endlessly – and kept him occupied. Her brother came in and sat at the foot of the bed, listening to her tell stories; his sweet, little-boy smile made the whole situation easier to bear. He was nothing like Erik had pictured children to be; he didn't stare impolitely at the "ugly" man, or drop his head in pity every time their eyes met.

That night, after the house had gone quiet and Erik's bedside clock hit the midnight hour, quiet footfalls in the hallway stirred his curiosity. He managed to pull his legs over the side of the bed, ignoring the pains that shot though his muscles from lack of use, and precariously limp his way to the door.

He had grown mind-numbingly bored with lying around in bed and not speaking to anyone – which he found ironic, considering he had spent numerous years of his life not speaking to others. He had no desire to explore why he desired to hear the fiery-haired pixie speak to him…she chattered endlessly about every subject imaginable.

While he revisited many of their conversations over the last couple of days, he annoyingly found that his mind focused on the jeweled pools of her eyes, the generous fullness of her coral lips, the silky tendrils of her light auburn hair, and the alabaster perfection of her skin.

Erik closed his eyes and gave a stubborn shake of his head, forcefully jarring the visions out of his mind. Unfortunately, he realized that the footfalls had ceased and whomever it was that had made them had disappeared. Frowning, he turned to go back to his bed when the soft chords of a piano made their way to his well-trained and music-starved ears.

They played well…very well…whoever they were. Erik listened intently while the artist played Bach, Schubert, and Mendelssohn without error. The music calmed him, relieving him of the anxious and erratic beating of his heart and the sleeplessness that had robbed him of any rest for the past two nights.

It was only when he heard the voice attached to the fingers that Erik knew who it was that graced him with such a gift, the fiery-haired pixie who had managed to enchant him on many levels. He was not familiar with the song…but her heart beat in every word and in every chord…baring her soul to him….

_When I was a young girl I used to dream of a lover,  
to be my shining knight of strength one day.  
He'd carry me to a castle in the heavens and battle all my dragons on the way.  
And he'd ride down on a great white horse he'd bring me love I was longing for  
He'd bring me joy and lasting peace on a great white horse he'd ride away with me._

Her voice was pure and natural…not needing any criticism or reprimand. Erik could not even compare her voice to Christine's; they were two completely different styles. He quietly stood in the hall way and continued to listen to her; the longing in her voice was palpable

_When I was a young man I used to dream of a maiden  
with long soft hair flowing in the wind.  
Her laughing eyes and loving arms would follow  
when I'd sail around the world and back again.  
And I'd ride down on a great white horse I'd bring the love she was longing for…  
I'd bring her laughter and sunny days…  
And on a great white horse I'd carry her away._

There was loneliness in her tone, blanketed by the sweetness of the song; but Erik had lived far too long without the love she sang of…and he heard a kindred spirit calling out to him. As he made his way back toward his room, he could still make out the final verse…

_The time has flown - I find there are no dragons_

_and I don't wanna sail the seven seas.  
Anywhere we are becomes our castle_

_and the only world I want is here with me.  
And we both ride on a great white horse…_

_we found the love we were longing for.  
You're my sunshine on a rainy day,_

_you're my April you're my May._

Song is "Great White Horse" by Buck Owens

Sleep seemed to come much easier that night, the simple perfection of her voice playing repeatedly in his mind, lulling him to sleep. What he would have found even more strange, had he realized it, was the fact that Christine's voice had never given him the peace and serenity that her voice had…maybe he wasn't quite ready for that knowledge yet.

۞۞۞۞

By the next morning, Erik was feeling much better and sat up straighter in the bed, awaiting his breakfast. He hadn't thought too much of it over the past few days, but it dawned him that by the time she brought him his breakfast, she had already been up for several hours. He was a light sleeper, and had heard her padding down the hallway at four in the morning. She would go out a door and be gone for a couple or more hours and then would come back in, prepare breakfast, and spend the next few hours entertaining him.

This morning, he paid closer attention to the way she carried herself. Although she seemed strong and impenetrable, Erik could tell she carried a great burden on her shoulders. He had yet to talk to her, but had spent the last couple of days learning her speech patterns and word usage; when he spoke to her, he wanted to be able to converse with her in a way that would be satisfactory to both of them. She had not brought him breakfast, but said she was going to get him out of bed and to the kitchen to enjoy it like normal people.

Erik's thoughts went a different way, _She wants to get me out of bed...when will a woman ever want to get me IN to bed. _He refrained from laughing and continued to watch her beneath hooded eyes, s_he longs for help from someone stronger than she is…she is holding back a fierce need that I feel pulsing through her. Perhaps we are not so different…she and I._

She had unwearyingly asked him for various responses on various things, but Erik had – so far – refused to carry on a conversation with her. She patiently took the lead when determining what foods to bring him, what books to read to him, or any such things. He was impressed with the quality of care she gave him, although he was surprised that she seemed unaffected by the scarred remnants of his face.

"You still look at me as if you expect me to kill you in some horrendous way and then dance like a crazy woman on your grave…lighten up." She chirped, hoping to gain a response of some sort.

The dark wing of his brow arched inquisitively, but she saw nothing but amused understanding in their depths.

"My name is Randi….well, it's Miranda – but everyone calls me Randi…" She paused, giving him time to respond in some way, "…you do understand me…why don't you speak to me?"

He blinked a few times, interesting name – it suits her. He thought, raising his bearded chin, and peering at her down his straight, patrician nose. He supposed he ought to tell her his name since she told him hers, "I am called Erik…" he banked a crooked grin before continuing, "…and that is what everyone calls me."

Randi was taken aback by the sound of his voice; deep and melodious with a sensual French accent; just the few words he had spoken moved over her skin like the finest silk. She swallowed visibly, smiled, and then let out a long breath.

"I am so glad you speak English, I was afraid that you didn't understand anything that I was saying to you…I mean, you never said anything."

"I apologize for my rudeness…I am a private person and am not used to being around people, especially women." He hoped she could understand his words; he knew his accent was rather pronounced.

She lifted her head as if a light had just come on and new understanding had developed. She had what appeared to be a frown on her face as if something was quite disappointing to her.

_Figures…he's gay. _She thought with a strained smile.

"What a waste." She whispered quietly, but not before he heard her.

Erik pondered her unusual words, trying with all of his might to decipher what she was talking about, but nothing came to mind. In the end, he ignored it and decided to ask a few questions of his own.

"Could you instruct me as to where I am?"

Her look was priceless – a cross between disbelief and amusement, "How can you not know…where have you been, living under a rock?"

"So it would seem." He answered quickly; looking rather surprised.

Randi sighed and sat down in the chair beside the bed. "You're in Colorado…a little town called Rand."

His brow furrowed and his eyes narrowed slightly, "Colorado?" He had never heard of such a place…_wait, I have heard of it_, "…Colorado, territory of the United States in 1861."

She lifted both brows and tried not to giggle out loud, "Yes…and a full fledged state in 1876…anything else you wish to tell me?"

Erik didn't hear her jesting tone; he was busy wondering how he had allowed himself to get lost in country almost half way around the world from where he had intended to end up. He would simply have to do his best to learn the culture and better master the language if this was where he was to be, at least for now.

She sighed remorsefully and sat down beside him on the bed…shocking Erik with her boldness, but ignoring the glare he gave her. "You have been listening to me rattle on and on for days about anything I could think of to keep you alert…now I want to hear all about you."

Erik had learned so much in the two days he had been silently observing and listening. Randi had introduced him to so many things, as had Cody. Other than the TV – as he had deduced it was called - the most amazing thing was a small box-like device she had used to "surf the web" as she called it. The thing was called a "laptop" and Erik, not wanting to appear as ignorant as he actually was, just observed all the keys she used and knew that when given the chance, he could operate it.

The technological advances alone would have amazed and humbled Casper; and Erik felt even smaller in a universe that had all but cast him aside. He had enjoyed the times she had entertained him in such a way, but he had also enjoyed the times she had read to him. Her voice, with its alluring accent, was a sweet sirens call to his senses. He had had few opportunities to be so close to a woman, and he intended to make the best of it and enjoy what little time she would give him. She seemed fine with the idea of sitting right down next to him on the bed; giving him the added benefit of seeing the adorable scatter of freckles across her nose.

"At least you speak English…that's a plus…because my French is sad…really sad." Randi assured him; again watching that dark, perfectly shaped brow arch over his gorgeous eyes.

"Yes…" he stated, pulling the word out as though questioning something, "…I do speak English." A slight smirk played about his full lips, "I have recently learned from a very good teacher."

He found her accent charming; much like the rest of her, but he quickly brushed the fleeting thought from his mind. He had no intentions of courting disaster by developing feelings for another female…no matter what century he was currently residing within.

The red-headed imp just smiled at him; a teasing glint lighting her eyes from within. Looking at her, Erik was certain she had already figured him out. She seemed to look into his very soul and see far more than he wanted her to see…or anyone to see, for that matter.

"Well, judging by your alluring accent, I'd say you're French…or possibly French-Canadian…." another amusing lift of his brow and a sparkle in his aqua-marine eyes, "….but I'm going to go with French." She ended the statement on a high pitch, indicating for him to affirm her assumption.

He gave one nod of confirmation and then watched her shuffle about the room opening the curtains. She was graceful and athletic in her movements, and rather tall for a woman. Erik appreciated the curve of her hips and the swell of her bosom as she lifted her arms to straighten the long curtains. Before she could notice his eyes on her, he averted them and hoped he wasn't blushing. The lower part of his anatomy certainly was responding in a most upsetting way; Erik shifted beneath the sheets to avoid further embarrassment.

"Was that your talents I heard displayed on the piano last night?" Erik decided to confess his nocturnal spying.

She slammed her eyes closed and frowned. She certainly had not meant to disturb him or anyone else last night; apparently she had under estimated the extent of his healing. Randi had no idea how endearing her aghast look was to Erik. A pleasant blush colored her cheeks and caused her lips to curl in a broken smile…he once again focused on the spattering of freckles across her pert nose and thought he had never seen a more enticing woman.

"Yes…I'm so sorry if I kept you awake…I tend to turn to music when I'm restless or nervous…or whenever."

Now that...he completely related to…Erik searched her features, finding within them the sparkle of intelligence shining in her stormy eyes, small crinkles around her eyes that spoke of deep sorrow she had endured; and a beautiful soul that bore the scars of experience way beyond her years.

"I know an experienced musician when I hear one…and you are gifted, my dear…very gifted." He believed in giving credit where credit was due, and she deserved it. "Why are you not performing somewhere?"

Randi stared at him, marveling at the sheer beauty of his voice and the confidence with which he spoke. She had no doubt that he knew what he was talking about; there was an manner of arrogance about him…not an in-your-face kind of arrogance, but an arrogance born of years of practice and patience.

"Thank you…do you play?"

Erik felt the tingle in his fingers and the swell of adrenaline in his stomach as he thought about once again whisking his hands over the silky cool keys of a piano and allowing his soul to vent its pent up emotions.

Soon. He told himself. There are other priorities right now. "Yes, I do…but I have not had the opportunity for quite some time." He watched her eyes light up, bringing their color to new heights, "You were also singing…I was quite impressed."

It was so good to have someone who once again made her feel good about herself…someone who wasn't family. He had paid her two compliments, and she didn't even know the least bit about him. Well, unless one considered knowing that he had the most delicious set of biceps and that the hair on his chest was just the perfect amount to set her pulse racing…or that she had dreamed of him for the past two nights in most unscrupulous ways; if that were the case, then yes...she knew him.

Erik had no idea what the look in her eyes represented, but he had certainly never seen it before – on her or anyone else. She sat down next to him and checked the bandages on his hands, finding them almost completely healed. She unwrapped them completely and noticed the faint smudges of dirt that lingered on him for the night he had collapsed into the mud. From there, she took in his rumpled hair and slight smell of perspiration that covered him; he needed a bath. She stood up and smiled.

"Why don't you take a bath in the big bathroom down the hall – if you're feeling up to it – and then come to the kitchen and I'll fix you a good breakfast…" she smiled sweetly, bringing more sunshine in to the room. "…I'll send Cody in to help you if you need it." She exited the room in a flurry of energy, leaving Erik to stare after her.

He pushed the sheets back and drew his legs over the side of the bed. He felt incredibly weak, but he assumed it was an after effect of having been unconscious for a couple of days and not getting out of bed for some time. He circled the events of the last few days in his head, and was pleased that Casper's invention had worked…but here he was, lost in the 21st century. He had no knowledge of the things around him, the people he had come in contact with had no knowledge of his origins, and Erik knew that he would never be able to tell them.

Erik finally stood up and sorted through her instructions. Take a bath…I sure do need one… he stood on wobbly legs and waited for the blood to evenly distribute through his body. She had said there was a large bathroom down the hall, but Erik peeked into the one that was not far from where he stood. The room was light and cheerful, decorated with some sort of colorful mermaid design with smiling fish and an interesting looking lobster character. There were towels with the same design hanging neatly on a bar fastened next to what looked like a bathtub, as well as a colorful, mermaid studded shower curtain. For all intents and purposes, it looked much like the baths of the late 19th century, only it seemed to be much more logically designed; something Erik could appreciate. There had been many a time when he had enjoyed a long, leisurely bath in his lair…knowing he would never be disturbed; even foregoing the need to wear the layers of clothing that were demanded by society. Many times he had wandered through his lonely, subterranean estate with naught on but a long shirt and stockings.

Bringing his thoughts back to the present, Erik knew he needed a towel and spied one hanging over a rod on the wall; it was the only one he saw and he was not sure how many there were, so he snatched it up and left the colorful bathroom for the bigger one she had asked that he use.

It was much bigger but not quite so colorful. The walls were a light yellow with lavender trim and accents. He filled the big, round rub with water; leaving the bubble bath he found alone…as it smelled rather feminine; and allowed his large body to soak in the tub for a while. He eventually picked up the soap - which had a pleasant "clean" smell to it - and scrubbed the grime from his skin; he found the bottle labeled, "shampoo" and washed his to-long hair. The shampoo was not too girly, so Erik was pleased with it. He finished up in the tub, pulled the plug, and removed himself from it; using the towel to dry off.

Of course, it was after he was headed back into the room he had convalesced in that he realized he had no change of clothes. _Brilliant Erik…now you are standing in the middle of the room garbed only in a towel with a young, impressionable woman in the house and her brother…just brilliant._

He was certain his lack of clothing would offend her, but he had little choice. He hoped she had something he could put on…just until he was able to purchase some clothes. He gave himself a long, scrutinizing look in the mirror; his hair was unruly – doing its own thing – and he needed a shave…badly.

A soft knock signaled the woman's entrance and Erik refused to look flustered as she glided into the room without any care as to his state of undress. She stopped suddenly when she saw him and Erik could feel the heat of her eyes as they raked over him from head to toe.

"I apologize for my state of undress…I have no other clothing." He mumbled.

Randi had to keep the hungry sigh that was lodged in her throat from surfacing or he would think she was going to attack him; but it had been a long time since she had seen such perfection. She finally settled her eyes on his chest and abs, but she could tell he had long, muscled legs beneath the pink towel he had wrapped around slender, masculine hips.

_Pink towel!!_ She tried to hide her embarrassment, but wasn't sure she had succeeded. "It's fine….that towel looks wonderful on you." She teased, still draping her eyes over his fine body. Carved muscles that resembled granite, a sinfully flat six-pack stomach, the perfect amount of dark hair splayed over his luscious chest – her mouth was watering and she could swear her eyes were glued to his body.

He fidgeted in front of her – obviously uncomfortable with the situation. _Of course he's uncomfortable, Randi…he's gay! _She reminded herself, _stop looking…stop looking…_ but she just couldn't do it.

"Don't worry, my father's things should do for now…." Randi dropped her eyes, but not before she smiled, "…he was slightly shorter than you are, but there might be some jeans that will fit you."

His embarrassment amused her; too many of the men she had known in her life were complete jerks – grabbing their crotch or making obscene gestures toward her to indicate their "interest" in her…it was disgusting. Most of them looked really good on the outside, but once they opened their mouth...yeah…not interested. They looked good as long as they kept their mouths shut.

Randi stepped into her parent's bedroom, ignoring the gnawing emptiness that seemed to emanate from the walls. She had not conquered this room yet…hadn't packed up any belongings or changed the décor. She couldn't bring herself to close that chapter of her life just yet.

She pictured Erik's naked chest in her mind as she sorted through her father's clothes; stirring up fond memories of his bright, loving eyes and strong, capable hands. He had always been a pillar for her to lean on…now he was gone. She lovingly caressed a pair of faded blue jeans that had always been too long for him, and a western cut black shirt with red stitching. She also grabbed a pair of boots, wondering if they would fit.

She opened the drawers of the dresser and thankfully found a package of unopened boxer shorts and some socks. She had never picked out clothes for a man before…let alone intimate clothes; she wondered what he would do when she presented them to him.

On her way out the door, she grabbed a belt, slipped into the bathroom to get some cologne and anti-perspirant for him, and then headed back to her old room.

When she handed them to him, he looked at each piece closely; a completely baffled expression on his face. In fact, he acted as though he had not the slightest clue about how to dress himself.

Erik's furrowed brow hardly described what he was feeling. He was used to completely covering himself – no exposed skin unless it was necessary. These clothes were nothing like what he was used to. There was no vest, no jacket, no cravat – nothing to hide beneath; and the pants….he could tell just by looking at them that they would hug his legs, and other areas, like a glove.

Cody came strolling into the room about that time….dressed in much the same manner as Erik presumed he was supposed to dress. The boy was probably around twelve and Erik saw the familial resemblance in the eyes and mouth…other than that, the boy had sandy brown hair, where as the woman's was the color of a fiery sunset.

"Hi Erik." The young boy announced with bravado.

Erik shook the small hand that was extended toward him, and smiled a winning smile.

"Hello Cody…." Erik picked up the package of boxer shorts and flipped it over a few times before dropping them back on the bed, thankfully; Randi chose that exact moment to stroll back into the room.

"You sure are big…Randi and I had a hard time getting you on the couch so we could make you feel better." Cody looked up at him with the big, innocent eyes of a child, and Erik felt his inner walls begin to crumble.

He had never really been around children…they were discouraged in the opera house and anyone who had children kept them at home or ended up giving them away. As he thought about it, Erik realized that life in the opera house had not been ideal…for many. Meg was the only child he had known, and her mother had kept her at home until she was able to start training as a ballerina.

Erik smiled down at the child, feeling a connection with him in some idealistic way. When he felt the woman's eyes on him again, Erik remembered he was standing in front of her with very little clothing on.

"Your hands were cut pretty badly…" Cody stated, "….the doctor put a few stitches in places and then they were bandaged…Randi changed the bandages regularly; she took care of you."

The boy certainly was fond of his sister; his eyes were bright with an emotion that was completely foreign to Erik. For her part, the young woman pulled at her brother's arm to get him out of the room.

"Come on, Cody…let Erik get dressed so he can eat."

Erik managed to do just that, although it took him longer than usual with less clothing; but after it all was over, he stood in front of the long mirror and sighed.

"It will have to do." He shrugged, not feeling at all comfortable in such light clothing.

He went back into the room he had slept in and pulled the coin out of the hidden pocket in his coat. It was time to kiss his past good-bye and see what the future held. Maybe Randi and her brother could help him find a future…neither of them seemed too disgusted by his appearance; maybe they would allow him their friendship.

___TBC_


	11. Chapter 11

Moving on!!

TIME BETWEEN US

CHAPTER 11

Over the next couple of days, as Erik healed, he also observed. The talking picture box was quite useful as a learning tool. There were so many different arenas of study that Erik often found his mind going hazy with all the facts. His heart pounded furiously within his chest as he considered all the advancements that had been made, especially the vast amounts of knowledge that were available at the touch of a fingertip or the switching of a channel.

It was astounding! However, Erik held his amazement in check, knowing that to appear anything but mildly amused would surely shine a tremendous amount of doubt on his sanity and produce a myriad of questions that he had no desire to answer. In the moments when he was alone, he took the time to feed his enthusiasm and allow his heart to beat in wonder at the things around him...but in truth, he never wanted to be alone again.

The modern world held so much promise and fascinating wonder, that Erik knew he would never suffer from boredom or loneliness…not in a world where he could communicate across the globe with a wonderful tool called the internet or the advancement of the telephone…some of these things had been in the minds of their inventors when Erik had left the 19th century; but he would have never dreamed such things would ever come to be.

He never had to leave the safety and sanctuary of his home to make a friend; a friend that would talk to him across the miles and never judge him for having an ugly face. It was a whole new world for him…a world that did not know him as the Phantom of the Opera, or the Opera Ghost; they did not know his horrible history or what he had endured…he could be as close to normal as he wanted to be.

Of course, reality came slamming down upon him a couple of days later when Randi got a visit from a young man that Erik could tell made her uncomfortable. He was out at the corral watching Cody play with one of the few horses that were left on the ranch, when he happened to see the vehicle drive up.

He started for the house in long strides, watching the The tense rod of Randi's shoulders tell him everything he needed to know about her feelings toward the individual. As the young man approached her, Erik felt the fire of indignation welling up within him. Randi was avidly shaking her head no and pushing at the man – trying to discourage him from coming any closer.

Erik was mounting the stairs on the porch when he saw the reprobate put his hands upon Randi's shoulders; she reared back and slapped the odious face of her would-be attacker, standing her ground with flames shooting in her vibrant eyes and her body rife with fury.

"Don't touch me, Bracy!" He heard her scream before planting his feet on the porch and crossing his firm biceps across his chest. The deadly venom of his Phantom stare was centered fully on the fop whose hands had yet to stop touching her. He still wasn't recovered completely, but nothing in his stance suggested a weakness of any sort...and he knew it.

"Mademoiselle Willows…is everything alright?" He asked in a cold, drilling tone that had brought grown men to their knees on many occasions; the steely tenacity of his eyes never left the surprised face of the young man. "Is this man bothering you?"

At least showing some intelligence, the man dropped his hands as though he had been scorched and narrowed his gaze on Erik. Randi took that moment to glide over to Erik's side and stand beside him with her hands jammed nervously into the pockets of her jeans.

"Who are you…I don't remember seeing you around these parts?"

The question hung in the air as the two men sized each other up. Randi was trying to stop the wild hammering of her heart; thankful that Erik had shown himself when he had; Bracy had been adamant about getting her into his car.

Erik chose to ignore the brat for the time being and turned toward Randi, careful not to touch her in any way, but using a soothing tone to guide her out of the tremors that were wracking her body.

"Did he hurt you?" He asked in a hushed tone, "My lady…look at me."

When her eyes finally touched his, Erik relaxed a little bit. There was a slight smile on her face and she moved closer to him, seeking the warmth of his protecting presence. He fought the sudden need to wrap his arms around her, if for no other reason than to calm her even more; but he was not sure if his arms around her would bring her comfort or terror…so he refrained.

"No…he didn't hurt me…" She replied. Erik could here the unspoken "but" at the end of her statement; if he had not shown up when he did, the ruffian would have had her in his car and under his command.

Grinding the words out from a clinched jaw and burying the need to draw first blood, Erik turned toward the scamp and snarled, "I suggest the next time you feel like roughing somebody up, you come and find me; I would be happy to oblige. In the meantime, this ranch, and anyone who resides upon its grounds, is off limits to you."

Erik felt the hatred seething from the young man; there was no doubt that his intent had been to do more than just talk to her. Erik moved in on the young man, burrowing his heated gaze into him with little more than complete disgust.

"I will not issue another warning to you…the young lady does not desire your company in any way, so leave..." Erik lowered his chin and smirked menacingly, "…now."

Randi could not believe the look on Bracy's face as he openly contemplated rushing Erik and tackling him to the ground. She could see the plays circling in his head as he tried to determine the best way to bring down the intruding man. It was almost like a cartoon with the bubble cloud above the character and the thoughts that were supposedly going through their mind.

Erik seemed to sense it as well, stroking the boy's anger until he was practically blowing smoke out his ears, "I am waiting for you to do as you have been told…I am not a patient man."

"I don't take orders from foreign scumbags who think they can waltz in and steal what doesn't belong to them…I have made it clear to Randi that I am interested in her...and I'll have her."

Erik chose that moment to laugh; a dark, rumbling sound like a brewing thunderstorm. His shoulders were straight and every roped muscle was poised for attack as he slowly advanced on the man. Although Bracy was taller by an inch or two, Erik was stacked muscle and broad shoulders. There was no doubt who would win in a battle of sheer strength.

"This is private property, Bracy…unless asked, you don't belong here. Do as Erik told you to do and get off my ranch." Randi was through being victimized by this two-bit Casanova who thought himself God's gift to women. "I mean it, Bracy…off."

"It's not your ranch for long…is it, Randi?" Bracy hissed, "Have you told your lover that…have you?" he smiled wickedly at Erik, whose gaze had not changed but remained fixed on Bracy as though staring a whole straight through him.

Although his fists ached to pound the annoying bugger into the ground, Erik held his temper and appeared calm and collected to the outside world. He was not fully recovered yet, but Erik had no doubts that he could make the younger man think twice before coming back out to Willow's Peak Ranch for any sort of trouble making.

"Maybe not, Bracy…but right now, it's still mine; so get OFF!!"

Erik cocked his head to the side and regarded Bracy with the same interest a bird of prey regards a small animal scurrying about on the ground; rapt, devouring, hunters instinct. Randi did not seem to mind that Bracy had referred to him as her lover...Erik found that amusing. The look on the twits face was priceless when she did not dismiss the notion.

"You heard the lady… get off." Erik said, never raising his voice.

Bracy seemed to consider the cold, deadpan stare that left a chill in the air; he flexed his fingers and tightened his fists, but he backed down and headed for his truck.

"We didn't have to be enemies, Randi…remember that."

When his car was headed down the road toward town, Randi allowed her shoulders to relax a little bit. She refused to cry, having already trembled enough inside her stomach to cause an avalanche. She released a tight breath and unlocked the jaw she hadn't realized was locked, and sat down on the porch swing.

Erik leaned lazily against one of the wide columns on the porch, relaxed to the naked eye, but very alert about the woman before him. She was petrified; he could see it in the wide expanse of her moss green eyes and the quiver that barely touched her lips.

"Are you sure you are all right, Mademoiselle?" He asked, crouching down beside her.

She wrapped her arms around her chest and nodded, not making Erik feel any better, but the best she could do at the time.

"I have been fighting that guy off for years…he disgusts me."

Erik dropped his eyes to the floor, than turned to watch the sun begin to set behind the mountains…he would never tire of such a sight.

"I am sorry that he touched you…I would have gladly broken each finger on both hands if you had but indicated for me to do so."

Randi chuckled and captured his gaze as he turned toward her once again, "What you did was more than enough….you are a brave man, Erik. Not many guys would do what you did; especially knowing Bracy's tendency towards violence and the physical strength he supposedly possesses…thank you."

Erik shrugged off the praise, not feeling as though he had done anything worthy of it, "You are welcome, lovely lady….now, I must take a bath, than I promised Cody a game of Monopoly..." _whatever that is, _Erik finished in his mind. This would prove to be an interesting evening, of that he was certain.

Erik could not have been more shocked than he was when she stood to her toes and dropped a quick, almost elusive kiss upon his marred cheek. There was a rosy hue to her cheeks that only intensified the verdant color of her eyes, and Erik realized how easily he could get lost in their depths. Before he could dismiss the moment as pure circumstance or a fragmented hiccup of his wishful thinking, Randi was turning from him and headed toward the corral.

"Don't let him beat you, Erik…he's a quick one, so be careful."

Shaking off his need to over analyze the moment, Erik chuckled in response, "Thanks for the warning."

By the end of the evening, Erik knew exactly what she was talking about…and all he could do was shake his head as he made his way toward the bedroom.

___TBC_


	12. Chapter 12

Just to clarify, I know NOTHING about coin value or auctions...I am using that wonderful tool called "writer's liberty".

Enjoy.

TIME BETWEEN US

CHAPTER 12

By the next morning, Erik was actually feeling as close to normal (for him) as he had felt in some time. As he turned into the kitchen, Erik realized just how hungry he was. He had never been a big eater, having chosen to bury himself in his interests; but his creative genius was on hiatus right now, so he indulged in the things he had so long considered trivial.

It smelled heavenly, and his mouth was watering in anticipation. He watched the young woman preparing the meal and a strange longing filled him. If he were a different man, one deserving and capable of such things, this might have been his life; a loving wife who was as much in love with him as he was her, and a couple of children.

To bad he wasn't that man.

Randi looked up just as he was seating himself. She looked none the worse for yesterdays tangle with the ogre called Bracy. Her stunning eyes were bright and vibrant, and a smile played about her lips. She seemed slightly nervous around him, something that didn't settle well with Erik, but he pushed it aside and tried not to dwell on it.

"Good morning, my brave knight."

Erik tried not to feel the swell of emotions that filled his traitorous heart, but he could not stop it. It felt too darn good to be referred to as something other than monstrous fiend or a hideous freak by a member of the opposite sex.

"I am no knight – brave or otherwise - Mademoiselle; I was merely doing what any man would do."

A wry chortle filled the air as Randi kept her eyes averted and her hands busy, "That isn't true Erik…other than my father you're the first man who has stood up to protect me. They have all tried to weasel their way into my bed or turn all macho and He-man on me, wanting to force themselves into my life when I was busy trying to throw them out of it. Your gallant and chivalrous ways are a refreshing and welcome change."

He considered her words, agreeing with them for the most part. Men didn't seem to treat women with the same care and tenderness that had been common in his time. He was really thankful that Randi seemed to like that about him because he could never change that part of his character; perhaps in time he would fit in a little better, but he hoped he never lost his gentlemanly qualities.

"You are to me…that's all that matters." Randi stated, cutting off his chance to retort, refusing to allow him to diminish the importance of his actions.

Before he could stop himself, Erik bore a little bit of his soul to her, "There are two things I cannot tolerate; violence against children and violence against women. I gave up on the notion of ever having a wife and children of my own, but I refuse to tolerate any one abusing them."

Randi heard the loneliness and agony in his voice; raw and deep. She longed to ask him why he held himself in such contempt, but she would wait until she knew him better. Maybe that was what she saw swimming in his eyes every time she gazed into them. There was no guile in his eyes or features, and his tone was deprecating; he firmly believed what he said.

She just stood there for a few minutes, Erik was certain she was regarding his scars and openly agreeing with him, but he saw nothing but a flair of confusion in her eyes and a slight wrinkle upon her brow – then she curved her tempting lips in a sweet smile.

"Okay…enough of that…" she put her attention back to the task at hand…preparing breakfast, "….I want to make it clear that you are to call me Randi from now on; none of that 'Mademoiselle' mumbo-jumbo – or you can call me Miranda, whichever."

Erik pulled his shoulders back and cocked his head to the side, "I am not sure if calling you by your first name is appropriate, we hardly know each other."

Randi chuckled, looked over at him, and shook her head; causing swirls of gingery hair to bounce around her angelic face. Her pert nose wrinkled in amusement and Erik found himself breaking through with a beguiling smile that he didn't even know was in him.

"Please…I have had deeper conversations with you than I did with most of the people I went to school with…" she assured him, "…believe me, you will not offend me in the slightest by calling me by my first name." She sat the prepared plates of food down on the table, and gave a quick call to Cody, telling him breakfast was ready.

Most of the time he was a complete mystery to her; one minute, his behavior and manners were impeccable – as though he had been raised in a completely different time; and the next minute he was gracing her with that crooked grin that somehow made him more roguish and even more handsome, if that was possible, and she was certain he was as interested in her as she wanted him to be.

"Sit down and eat, Erik…I can hear your stomach growling from over here." She teased, giving him a quick wink.

He just stood there, looking at the table as though he had never seen one before…or was unaware of how to actually sit down. He was thinking about something very important to him, for his strong brow was tainted by a long, stern crease down the very middle – a sure sign he was deep in thought.

"It seems I have been quite an inconvenience to you. You have nursed me back to health and even allowed me to entertain you and Cody to the point of boredom…I'm sure. I have no wish to be a further burden to you."

She didn't look at him, but Erik saw the smile that lifted her full lips and the heard the light giggle that seemed to tickle its way up his spine. She seemed to be at ease around him now; probably because she knew nothing about him or his horrid past.

"I am serious, Madem…uh…Randi, I need only find a place to sell the coin that I carry so that I may have some money, and I will be gone from your life…do you know such a place?"

Randi poured orange juice in each glass then placed a stack of pancakes on the table before gave a stern look at the empty chairs. Cody hadn't arrived yet, and she knew he had heard her; but rousing that child from the bed in the mornings was as bad as trying to get him to go to sleep at night.

"I'm going to go get Cody from his room and then we'll eat…we can discuss anything you may need after we say grace."

His brow remained furrowed as she left the room…when had he lost complete control of that conversation? She had diplomatically swept the advantage right out from underneath him and thwarted his concerns without as much as a second thought. There had been few…no wait; there had been no one he had meant that had been able to silence him…but this incredibly strong minded and extremely beautiful woman had managed to do so…he would have never thought to see it.

He reluctantly admired that trait in her…he was hard pressed to find any negative traits about her; that alone was enough to give him cause for concern.

They returned, Randi having casually draped her arm over the boyish shoulders of her brother – who was every bit as tall as she was – and then they sat down. Erik watched them both bow their heads and decided to follow suit, and Cody prayed; a sweet, child-like whisper of worshipful wonder and grateful thanks. The prayer only took a total of a minute of two, but Erik was touched by his innocence and the peace that seemed to settle around them.

Randi wasted no time in getting to the matter at hand, "Now, to answer your question, the only place I know of to ensure you get top dollar for your heirloom is the auction in Denver. We can make a trip there today, if you want."

Yes, he wanted, very much.

"My father was a member and they know me personally…it would probably be best if we pretend the coin is mine for arguments sake."

Erik agreed, it would make for far fewer questions that had not answers...at least not feasible ones.

The food was delicious and Erik piled two more pancakes on his plate.

"Where are your parents, I saw their picture in the sitting room?"

Erik hoped he was not stepping across some sort of line, or offending her in any way…but he was curious.

"They both passed away a couple of months ago…we miss them terribly. I have been struggling to save the ranch since then. So many past debts, everyday expenses, and everything…it's all building up." She seemed on the verge of tears and Erik wished he had not broached the subject. "I have a week left to come up with 536,243.16…" she turned tearing eyes to him and lifted a waning smile, "…I have just about run out of options; Cody and I will probably be moving into Denver so I can find a job after the bank takes the ranch."

The amount of money she quoted sounded astronomical and her situation was dire; Erik could hear the disappointment in her voice…but he could also see the defiance churning in her turbulent eyes. He didn't know the history involved, but Erik had a good idea that her entire existence rested within the walls of this house and on every brick that had been laid.

"You only have a week to come up with that much money?"

Randi shrugged her shoulders, drawing attention to her pert breasts…two things that Erik was trying very carefully to avoid focusing on. He was very much aware of her as a woman….and it disturbed him deeply.

"I had a month, but what difference does it make; a month – a week – I don't have the money. No amount of time is going to change that." She stated, rustling up the dishes to keep busy.

She washed them thoroughly while listening to Cody drill Erik with a barrage of questions about anything and everything; to the man's credit, he sat there and took each one in good stride.

"Where did you come from?"

"France."

"Why are you here?"

"To make a new start."

"Do you have any family?"

"No."

"Why are you so tall?"

"God was tired of making short people that day…so He made me tall."

"Why were you dressed so funny when Randi found you?"

"We just dress differently where I come from…I think the way you dress is rather odd."

"How long are you going to be here?"

"For as long as I can be."

Finally, Randi determined that Erik had had enough of Cody's curiosity and shooed him off to his bedroom to get ready for their drive to the Denver auction.

"I'm sorry; we don't get many visitors out here. We did when the ranch was up and running, but ever since…." Her voice faded off as though terrible memories were working their way through her mind. "…well anyway, we don't get many visitors."

She was avoiding telling him something; Erik could sense it. There was something dreadful lurking in the back recesses of her mind…things that had happened to make the circumstances of their lives as calamitous as they were.

Settling her unease, Erik smiled and shrugged his shoulders, "No problem, he was just curious, that is all."

She smiled back and felt a strange flutter at the pit of her stomach; she dismissed it, thinking she was just feeling sentimental about having a man in the house – it seemed strange with her father gone. Clint's presence seemed to linger though, and it afforded a measure of comfort to Randi. She knew that if he were here, Clint Willows would have made Erik feel at home…a stranger in need.

"Okay…let's go to the auction and see if we can get your coin sold so that you can have some money."

Erik followed Randi out the door and watched her climb into the monstrous machine that seemed to swallow her whole behind a door of some sort. Erik would have been rather nervous about following her into the belly of the large, metal beast, but Cody climbed into it with no problem.

_If he can do it, so can you…just keep your eyes open and learn by example._

Erik pulled himself up into the giant thing and closed the door behind him. From then on, he entered an entirely new phase of his journey. The "pick-up", as he it was called, was tremendous! It covered miles and miles in a short period of time and there was music that came from everywhere…and Cody was even able to put his drink into a little hole that seemed perfectly designed for such things…it was fantastic! He hadn't paid much attention to the one that Bracy creature had arrived in...but this was wonderful.

Erik tried not to appear too ignorant and give his lack of knowledge away, but he could not help the silly grin that kept covering his face. He had to have one! Of course, it would take some sort of instructions to learn how to maneuver it, but he was certain he could handle it.

Over the next two hours that it took to drive the 120 miles to Denver; Erik saw many wonders in this new world he would have to call home. Many "cars" littered the roadways in many shapes and sizes. Large signs adorned the roadsides advertising various things. He would learn all there was to learn in the silence of his wonder, hoping that his intelligence would serve him well in this age…for it had been of little use in the past one.

As they moved closer to this place called Denver, Erik began seeing large, imposing buildings that towered above everything around them. They didn't look structurally sound to him, but that was probably because he did not know how they were constructed…he found that he really wanted to know. He had seen such things on the television and internet, but this was proof positive that they actually existed.

_I do not know why I am so amazed by the wonders of this world, I defied time and space to travel forward in time 133 years; still…_ he smiled broadly as they continued down the road.

To his delight, as they drew closer to their destination, Erik began seeing very large, very metal looking birds flying in the air. The oddest thing he noticed about them was that their wings did not flap, like regular birds, but stayed stationary. He stared in marvel at one of them as it floated above them, seemingly without any support whatsoever.

Erik remembered seeing drawings of such gadgets in the science books he had perused in his time; particularly those of, Jean-Marie Le Bris. He had found the concept fascinating, but unrealistic – even though Le Bris had experienced a small measure of success. Erik had been a skeptic about many things until Casper had educated him; Erik was less likely to think something was impossible now…he would only question how something was done rather than deny the possibility altogether.

Erik still was not feeling up to par, so when they arrived, he allowed Randi to take control of the situation and get everything where it needed to be. He felt numerous sets of eyes on him, some that were even hostile…but he was used to such behavior from the human race. In fact, he was surprised he had not been openly ridiculed.

It took the entire day to get the coin authenticated by an expert in such things…although if he had been asked, Erik could have told them it was an authentic 20 Franc Napoleon III coin minted in 1852; it was one of twenty that he had come upon in the bowels of the opera house several years ago. The coin was in mint condition, and the amount at which it was valued was considerably higher than Erik could have ever imagined.

"Clint Willows was an honored member of this establishment for years and my best friend, he is sorely missed." Van Gables remarked, coming up to stand beside Erik.

Erik was finishing the business transaction with the auction, when the large, burly man opened up the conversation with him. There were few men that Erik had to look up to, but Van Gables was one of them. Standing at 6 feet, 7 inches, it was rumored that he had missed his calling as a professional football player; choosing instead, to go into the financial side of business and, eventually, into collectible auctions.

"Are you a friend of Randi's?" He asked in a rough tone and a lift of his sandy brow.

There was something off about the man, at least in Erik's opinion; and he wasn't sure if he should even be talking to him. He seemed friendly enough, and in the end, Erik eased up on his suspicious inclinations and smiled at the large man. Van had an unusual speech pattern that didn't escape Erik's finely honed ears; maybe that was what Erik was feeling uneasy about.

He didn't really know how to respond to the posed question; she had known him for eight days, and he had been unconscious for three of the eight. They had spoken and she smiled at him as though he was a normal man…so maybe it would be safe to say that they were friends. He glanced around to see Randi talking to a medium-height young man, strongly built – possibly a ranch or cattle man by the way he was dressed. He turned back to Mr. Gables.

"We have not known each other for a very long time, but I would say we are friends."

Van lifted his chin and looked down his slightly crooked nose at Erik. His sky blue eyes were narrowed, but Erik sensed he was just protective toward Randi.

"She's a good girl…Randi…I'd hate to see her get hurt."

Erik didn't want to see her hurt either, and wondered why the big man had even mentioned it. Did he assume that because Erik was scarred he was dangerous? The thought rankled Erik's nerves, but he held himself in check – not showing any uncertainty at all.

Erik bowed and then stood regarding Mr. Gables with a cocked head and a reserved smile.

"Believe me, Monsieur Gables, Mademoiselle Willows has nothing to fear from me."

Erik turned and practically plowed Randi and Cody over as they came up behind him. She went to Mr. Gables and gave him a big hug, the man's massive arms practically covering her. Erik feared he might very well crush her and leave nothing behind. Something bothered him about the way the big man held Randi against him…but again, Erik pushed the accusations to the side…knowing he was overly suspicious most of the time.

"Randi, you look wonderful…and Cody…." Cody tipped his head politely and then looked away, "…what a handsome young man you are turning out to be. You weren't there the other day when I came to visit…" Van paused for a moment and appraised Cody with a narrowed eye, "…you look a lot like your father."

Erik noticed that Cody appeared to be uncomfortable in Van's presence; the boy was practically crawling out of his skin to get away from the conversation. He waited for Randi to finish her conversation and then gently interceded, shook Mr. Gables hand one more time and then dismissed himself by addressing Randi.

"Randi…I have a big favor to ask of you and Cody, may we go someplace to talk?"

"Of course….there's a park not far up the road as we are headed home. I'm sure Cody would like to feed the ducks and toss the Frisbee a few times." Erik had no idea what a "Frisbee" was, but he assumed it was something a boy Cody's age would enjoy.

She was right, the park was only ten minutes up the road and the late afternoon sun was still lending its warmth to the day…enough that enjoying an hour or two in the park would be easy.

Erik hadn't given much thought to the clothes he was wearing, but Randi sure was. Every few minutes he would catch her eyes on him; he figured it must have something to do with the fact that they were her father's clothes and she had been very close to him. She might even resent the fact that Erik was wearing them…he certainly hoped not.

They sat down at a bench that was overlooking the small, peaceful lake where Cody stood feeding the ducks. They watched him for a few minutes before Randi broke the silence.

"What can I do for you Erik…what did you want to talk about?" She believed in getting right to the point and he seemed like a practical man.

"I am in need of a place to stay, and you are in need of money…the funds from the coin are in a temporary account for now – ready for transfer…" her eyes grew as big as saucers and Erik continued before she could interrupt him, "…I suggest that we deposit the funds into your account and use it to help with the ranch and expenses; I'll work on the ranch and help get it up and functioning once again. Perhaps we can turn things around for Willows Peak Ranch and the Willows family."

She stood stunned – the significance of what he was suggesting was not lost on her. He wanted to help her and was willing to put his money where his mouth was. This was her chance to make a difference…but…

"Erik…you don't even know me…why…?" He could see the glistening evidence of tears in her eyes. "…I can't accept…" she finally insisted, not trusting herself to speak, "…it's too much…you don't know me."

She was stumbling over her words, side railed by his generosity. She knew exactly how much money he had obtained from the coin, it was more money than she would have spent in a lifetime - if she didn't have Willow's Peak to worry about; as it was, it was enough to pay all of her debt's and then some.

"I knew all that I needed to know when you brought me into your home and took care of me…" he felt a swell of emotion in his chest and it almost brought tears to his eyes, "…you have no idea what that means to me. I will need a place to stay…one of the guest houses will be sufficient; and I would like to help you with the ranch."

There was such sincerity in his beautiful eyes that Randi knew he was extremely touched by what he felt was as generous act of kindness. She was not one to admit how lonely she really was; but she suspected he would find out eventually.

"The guest houses are all in need of repairs; no one has bothered with them for a long time…there just hasn't been any money to hire someone to fix them; but you're welcome to any one of them."

Erik bowed his head in thanks, "That is more than a generous offer. I will do any repairs that need to be done and I hope you will find my strong back and able hands of use."

Randi's heart gave a tiny, hopeful leap in her chest; hearing a man say that he was willing to help her with the ranch, stay in a guest house and not her bed, and he would do any repairs himself; was there anything better in the whole world?

"Do you really want to do this…I mean, you could do anything with that money…go anywhere?" Randi admonished, thinking he had completely lost his mind. "I'm not sure the ranch is even worth saving at this point."

Erik felt the unusual and foreign need to wrap her in his arms and experience the sensation of having a woman lean on him for support. He made the mistake of dwelling on that image; her tall, curvy body pressed into his…he dropped his head and closed his eyes, warding the image away.

Erik leaned into her, inhaling the soft, feminine scent that always seemed to cling to her skin. He was not trying to flirt with her or make her uncomfortable, but Erik was very much aware of the way her heart sped up with his closeness. It caused him much sorrow to know that even though he had tried to be nothing but kind, she still feared him.

He pulled away slightly and swallowed the lump of pain in his throat, "We will have to see what we can do about that."

As Randi smiled and cocked her head to the side, wondering what he meant by that, Erik lifted his eyes to see a tall, blond, well-built man approaching them with a huge grin on his handsome face.

Randi turned and immediately leapt to her feet to greet him with a full body hug that had Erik shifting uncomfortably on the park bench. He had not even bothered to ask if she was seeing anyone or involved with anyone…he had just assumed she was an unattached female living with her brother in need of his protection and help; and he was more than willing to provide…_what a fool I am; of course a woman as attractive and vibrant as Randi is involved. And what was I thinking anyway, that she would actually be interested in me at some point in the future?_ His insides churned and he hated himself more than he ever had.

**۞۞۞۞**

He watched them, feeling every bit the outsider. Randi touched him with familiarity and ease, letting Erik know, without a doubt, that she was on friendly terms with the blond fop. After a few minutes of close talking, Randi turned to Erik and smiled brightly.

"Erik, I would like to introduce you to Chad Garrison, a very dear friend of mine from high school."

The man was tall, but not quite as tall as Erik, and his blue eyes seemed to devour Erik with their soft intensity. He was obviously in good shape and his handshake was firm as Erik took the proffered hand he extended toward him.

"Hello." Chad stated, sweeping his avid gaze over Erik's frame – although Erik missed it; his eyes were busy watching Randi and the big, blond fop share a lifted brow and a smirk, leaving him to wonder if they were communicating with their minds.

"So Erik….Randi tells me you literally dropped out of the sky and landed on her property the other night. I can't imagine what I would do if a gorgeous man just fell into my lap and needed to be taken care of."

His eyes once again gave Erik a thorough going over, and Erik turned his head slightly and quirked a dark brow, _what a strange thing to say…maybe he is more interested in men than women…_.i_t is probably just my wishful thinking…it would mean he was not interested in Randi_.

Erik knew it was ridiculous to even think about Randi in a romantic capacity, but that did not stop the pounding of his heart every time her light green eyes touched his or she smiled at him; he was such a lovesick fool and there was nothing he could do about it.

"Yes, I suppose I did. She and Cody did a wonderful job of taking care of me."

Randi was playing Frisbee with Cody; running and giggling as she chased the silly disc far more than she caught it. Erik watched her every move with heated interest, trying to keep his interest in her to himself.

After a few minutes, Chad dismissed himself to approach Randi as she once again bent to pick up the Frisbee. Erik stood to the side, brooding quietly and trying to appear disinterested in what was transpiring between Randi and Chad.

It lasted about ten minutes and ended with Randi giving the burly blond another big hug, and a kiss on the cheek. Before he knew it, Erik was facing Chad once again; this time, Erik warily shook his hand – not certain where the man stood with Randi.

"It was really nice to meet you, Erik; Randi has invited my partner and I to the ranch for dinner and a movie on Friday…" Erik wondered if the envy he felt showed on his face, "…we'll sort everything out then."

Before Erik could process what the man was talking about, he was winking his bright blue eyes at him and walking away.

_Sort through what?_ The thought echoed loudly in Erik's head.

Somehow, there had been some information exchanged to which Erik was not privy …and something told him that it would behoove him to learn what it was.

_I suppose I shall have to wait until Friday._

He frowned amusingly.

_I hate waiting._

___TBC_


	13. Chapter 13

I am sure the amount the coin was worth is (a little) exaggerated, but this is fiction, and for the sake of my story, just pretend.(wink)

Erik goes (a little) Phantom on someones butt...

TIME BETWEEN US

CHAPTER 13

True to his word, Erik determinedly concentrated on learning everything Randi and Cody could teach him about running a ranch. The first few lessons were given in the quiet and solitude of the house, for Erik was still building up his strength. By the end of the next week, his hands were back to their original perfection and the gash in his chest was virtually impossible to see. The spread of dark hair that playfully covered his chest hid the small, thin scar that was forming.

Watching Randi do the countless chores day in and day out made him even more determined to be about his own responsibilities. She was exhausted by the time evening rolled around, and there was only so much that Cody could do after school was released and homework was done. It was obvious that she wasn't a delicate creature, like many of the women had been at the opera house, but Randi was still a woman; and although Erik had not been raised by his mother, Madam Giry had instilled proper etiquette in him from the time she had rescued him.

Midweek was dragging, as it usually did; and Erik tried to keep his curious thoughts about Friday to himself. Randi had not mentioned anything to him, and she had even distanced herself. Erik began to think that she really did not want him around after all. The idea that she had already determined that he was not worth her time, hurt…much more than he had thought it would.

He had just finished repairing the fence that surrounded the guest house; the sun was fading quickly but still cast its warmth over the land, stubbornly refusing to relinquish its time to the moon. Erik pulled his shirt off, wiping his saturated brow of the sweat that lingered there. He turned on the water hose and sprayed himself down, removing the dust that coated him and the cooling him down.

He pulled his gaze over to the main house, just assuring himself that all looked well. A spear of fear jabbed through him when he saw a shadowed figure lurking in the back of the house. He was quite a ways away, but Erik had no doubt that the figure was that of a man.

He slipped into his house and called Randi's cell phone, knowing that the intruder would hear the house phone.

"Hello?"

"Randi…there's someone outside your house; a man by the looks of it. I'm at my place, but I'm going to intercept him…call the sheriff."

Randi gasped and quickly started for the window…an instinct Erik knew she would have.

"No!" Erik exclaimed, "Don't go to the window, he'll get spooked and make a run for it. I have him in my sights…just call the sheriff."

"Be careful, Erik…don't do anything rash."

He gave an amused snort, "Rash...me...never..." Erik assured her gently, "…I'll see you in a few."

Erik went into Phantom mode effortlessly…he retrieved the rope that he always had not far from his person, knotted it quickly, and – sticking to the shadows – made his way to the house.

It was almost comical watching the man snoop from place to place in search of an entrance; but Erik was in no laughing mood. He was thankful that Randi had listened to him when he asked to keep the doors and windows locked.

Using the direction of the breeze and the light of the descending light of the sun to his advantage, Erik came to within fifty feet of the man and continued to watch him – patiently – like a lioness stalking her prey.

There was no disguising the gait the man had or the arrogant sway of his shoulders. Erik could practically feel the lust rolling off the man as he sought the woman within the house…Erik had already had to threaten him once; this light would not end in a threat.

The sheriff and his men moved up the drive – no lights, and no sirens. Erik knew he would have to surrender his prisoner to them…but he was going to have the joy of taking him down first.

"I thought I told you a few days ago that you weren't welcome on this ranch."

Bracy startled to attention and could not believe that the same man was still here. Did he live here or something? He tried to run for the back of the house and head toward the fence he had come over, but the sheriff had already blocked that exit.

He ran for the front of the house and found the sheriff's men there also, blocking the drive and any chance of escape that way. He was cornered, and even though he was taller than the man who was calling him out, Bracy sensed a feral energy in him that made him feel inadequate.

"I just wanted to talk to her…that's all." Bracy stated, trying to sound sincere

Erik laughed, but the sound was anything but amused. "Why didn't you knock on the door then?"

Bracy was slowly inching his way toward Erik, hoping to run past him and head out past the guest housing and keep going from there.

"She wouldn't have talked to me...she was so unreasonable the last time." Bracy reasoned.

Another spine tingling laugh that made Bracy wonder where this man had come from, "Ah yes…and sneaking around in the dark is such a smarter choice..."

The sheriff and his men were closing in, forming a horseshoe around Erik as they tried to surround him, but Bracy would not have it. He set out on foot running past Erik, hoping that the newly laid darkness would grant him the cover he needed to make his hasty escape.

Erik had the rope out before the sheriff's men could even start after him.

"No need gentlemen…I'll bring him in."

Erik whipped the lasso through the air with more expertise than the top cowboys on the rodeo circuit, secured it around Bracy's waist with his arms locked to his sides, dropped the man to his backside, and reeled him in.

Randi had come out of the house, as had Cody, and they were watching the whole thing from between two of the sheriff's men. Randi was shaking from laughter as she watched Erik pull Bracy by the rope and hand him over to Sheriff Newcomb – rope and all.

"Thanks man…" the Sheriff said, "…that was some ropin' ya did there…you in the rodeo?"

Erik just smiled as they pulled the rope from around Bracy's waist and secured his hands behind his back; reading him his rights as they stuffed him into one of their SUV's.

"No sir, it's a hobby of mine."

Sheriff Newcomb laughed and cuffed Erik on the shoulder, "That's a shame, you would be unstoppable."

They proceeded to get Erik and Randi's statements and asked Randi if she wished to file suit against him for attempted breaking and entering.

"Yes, I do…he was here the other day and was trying to force me to get into his vehicle with him. If Erik hadn't interceded then also, I don't know what he would have done."

The next couple of hours went by quickly and everyone was exhausted by the time it was over. When the sheriff and his men finally left, Randi came up to Erik and once again dropped a kiss to his cheek, this time lingering very closely to his mouth.

"You really are my knight in shining armor." Cody even wrapped his arms around Erik's waist and gave him a hug.

He was still stunned as he watched them both walk back into the house.

۞۞۞۞

Erik was up the next morning, before the crack of dawn; he fed the horses and brushed them down…making sure they were taken care of. He trimmed the bushes that Randi had mentioned in passing, knowing that she hadn't been dropping a hint; but he wanted to do it anyway.

He finished around 9:30 in the morning and headed back into his house for a shower and breakfast. He had just removed his shirt and started on his pants when a knock sounded on the door.

Unsure of who it could possibly be, Erik spoke without opening the door.

"Who is it?"

"It's me Erik…can I come in?"

Hearing Randi's voice did everything but calm him; his first and only thought was that she had come to tell him he had to leave and that he had to be out by that night. He swept his hand through his sweat tipped hair and braced himself for whatever she had to tell him.

He opened the door, bracing his arm on the door jam; she stood there wringing her hands as though she had doubted he would open the door. Her eyes were teary and it looked as if she had been crying for some time. His demeanor softened the minute he saw her and he stood quickly to the side to allow her entrance.

"Is something wrong?" he asked, not feeling comfortable in the presence of a crying woman. "What have I done that would cause you such sadness?"

She did the one thing he had not expected her to do….she smiled. Erik was having a difficult time reading her mood as he noted the sparkle in her moist eyes, the way she smiled every time their gazes mingled, and the soft blush that seemed to have spread over her cheeks and the teasing swell of her breasts.

"These are not tears of sadness, Erik; I couldn't sleep last night…you filled my thoughts."

She had moved to stand directly in front of him; just an inch or two and he could touch her porcelain cheek or wrap his arms around the curve of her waist…but he kept them to his sides and just looked down at her with a perplexed stare.

"You paid the debt that I owed the bank…in full…with the money you deposited from your coin…" she had to pause as her voice broke with emotion, "...you have played the knight to my damsel in distress on two occasions now; running the beasts away…"

She couldn't speak anymore; instead, she stood on her tiptoes and began lifting her arms to wrap them around his neck – wanting to pull him toward her for a warm, appreciative hug; not knowing what she intended, Erik pulled back. He told himself it was because he had been sweating all day and surely stank to high heaven; but deep down he knew it was because he was not sure why she would want to touch him.

"Randi…I just finished working outside; I am very dirty."

It was at that moment that Randi really took notice of him. She had been so eager to thank him for all that he had done – for every time that he had been there for her - that she had not even realized just how delicious he looked, especially with droplets of perspiration dotting his solid, carved chest. She actually had to remember to breathe as he stood there wiping away the remnants of a hard workout with his shirt. The line of dark hair that played perfectly across those sculpted pecs, trailed down his hard abs, and disappeared beneath the waist of his blue jeans captured her attention and held it until she had finishing tracing it with her heated gaze. She had never considered hair on a man's chest to be an attractive or necessary trait…but on Erik….she could imagine the way it would feel against her sensitive skin.

Although she didn't care that he was dirty, Randi smiled and a pulled her hair back – tucking the thick strands behind her ear.

"I don't know how I ever managed without you…." She admitted, "…Bracy has never been so bold before. I mean…I knew he wanted me, but I never thought he would go so far."

Erik was so conscious of his exposed body that he was having a hard time maintaining his composure; this was the second time he had stood in front of this woman with very few clothes on. For his entire life, he had been careful to keep every area of his body completely covered with elegant clothing; maintaining the thought that his entire body was as disgusting as the right side of his face.

"Desperate men will do stupid things, Randi; I am glad he waited until I was here before trying anything."

He was fidgeting like a little boy and Randi smiled at the wonderful sight he made, "I'll let you get back to your shower….I know you haven't gotten any clothing or food since you arrived, do you need anything?"

"I really have not needed any; you gave me some clothes and enough food to last me quite a while…" more than he'd ever eat by himself, "…but I do need to go buy some new clothes and other items….if you can spare me the money to do so."

He was teasing her, and he hoped she understood that. By the light in her eyes and the smirk of her lips, she did.

"Gee…I don't know….I'm not sure I can spare any money for such things. I kind of like you running around half naked."

The twinkle in her eye was almost his undoing; she was flirting with him and Erik had no idea how to respond. No woman had ever even attempted such things with him. She had already kissed his marred cheek once and now she had reached for him as if she made him feel as though she found his naked form attractive…not trusting any words that might come out, Erik smiled coyly as she winked at him and back toward the door.

۞۞۞۞

Friday evening was turning into a relaxing interval for everyone. Erik had found the large guest house farthest from the main homestead to be the most appropriate for his needs. It was larger than he had originally thought he needed, but he was finding that he enjoyed the open space that it offered.

He had resisted the urge to spend any more time in the main house than was necessary. Randi had been kind enough to offer him the guesthouse; he had no desire to overstay his welcome in her presence. Cody seemed keener on him than Randi; she had pulled away a little bit after the other morning. He felt he had insulted her by not allowing more intimacy. He just wasn't sure what she wanted from him in that area.

Glancing at his reflection in the mirror that hung in the hallway, Erik dropped his head in disgust. She really didn't need a reason other than his ghastly visage to withdraw from him, she had certainly put up with it a great deal longer than he would have hoped for.

There was a large vehicle parked at the main house, one that Erik had not seen before. He had seen two people get out of it, both men. They were expecting Chad, but Erik was not sure of the other man's identity. He did not wish to intrude; giving Randi time with her friend before he showed up. Besides, Randi had said she would call.

After pacing the floor for a good half hour, he went to the kitchen and pulled some microwave popcorn out of the cupboard. The number of luxuries that this world held would never cease to amaze him. He had watched Randi make this wonderful treat numerous times and each time he had been like a small child watching something for the first time.

He set the timer and watched the bag expand, heard the kernels pop, and his mouth watered in anticipation. Popcorn had never been a mainstay of his diet, but he didn't think he would ever be able to do without it again. Removing the bag after the timer dinged, he shook the contents, moved to the bedraggled couch in the living room, stared at the magic box that they called a television – still very much disturbed by much of what he had seen on it – and almost jumped out of his skin when the phone rang. Popcorn flew out of the bag – littering his floor, his couch, and his hair – he growled as he stood to answer the phone.

"Hello?" He asked, trying to hide his annoyance.

"Hi Erik…hey, Chad is here and he brought his life partner, why don't you come on up?"

It was Randi, and Erik could feel his heart pounding in his chest as he contemplated what she could possibly want from him. It seemed she had taken on a new attitude toward him; she seemed slightly put off about something, but cordial. She smiled coyly at him, and was always friendly, but something had changed in the way she reacted to him.

She sounded controlled; he just wasn't sure what she was holding back – anger, fear, regret – what was it?

"Sure, I will be right there."

"And Erik…why don't you plan to stay until early morning, you always seem determined to leave quickly…besides, Chad and Rick want to get to know you better."

He frowned when he heard her express that she had noticed he did not stay around her any longer than was necessary by work standards. He had been cautious about overstepping his boundaries.

"Certainly Mademoiselle, whatever you ask I will do."

He hoped he didn't sound desperate, but he needed human contact; for so long he had been without it, except for the occasional brush of gloved hands with Christine or a motherly embrace from Bernadette; she had tried, but there was too much going in her life and she had focused on her husband until he left her, and then Meg had occupied most of her off time. Christine had been as necessary to him as breathing was, but she had never displayed the same need to him…looking back on it; he should have known she did not feel the same for him as he had for her.

_That's because you're an idiot…_ Erik chided to himself.

Randi giggled; a light airy sound that made his heart speed up and his brow lift in confusion, "Erik…why do you insist on calling me mademoiselle...I have asked you to call me Randi?"

It maintained a certain level of propriety in Erik's mind. She was a beautiful, vibrant, hard-working woman whom he wanted to kiss senseless every time he was within arms length of her; it had only taken a couple of weeks for him to get to that point; she was also – technically – his employer, although he received no salary. He feared that being around her any more than he already was, would cause the fondness he knew he felt for her to increase and bring about more heartache than he was willing or able to endure.

_So Erik…in conclusion, you are doing your share of pulling away… _a fact he refused to feel badly about _…and it is better for you both._

His thoughts did nothing to ease his mind, he knew he could not risk wanting more from her than she would be willing to give and knowing himself as he did, he knew he would eventually be foolish enough to reveal his growing affection for her if he stayed around her for any length of time.

_Do not ruin this Erik…she talks to you like an equal and seems able to tolerate your ugly carcass, so do not do anything foolish like allow your feelings to override your reasoning._

He sure hoped his own words spoken bluntly within his mind would embed themselves in the common sense part of his brain…but other less tolerant and logical parts of his anatomy were in charge.

"Erik?"

Erik rolled his eyes and shook his head, "Sorry Mademoi…" he paused to keep the word from slipping out again, "…I was thinking about something…I will try to remember to call you Randi. I will be there in a few minutes."

Hanging up the phone, Erik jumped in the shower and then quickly dressed in some more of the clothes that Randi had lent to him. He really needed to get into town and buy clothing, maybe something not quite so tight…he would have to ask Randi to take him into town soon; he wanted his own clothes.

This modern world's tendency toward frequent bathing went quite well with Erik's lifelong habits. For too long, while with the gypsies, Erik had been deprived of the most basic of needs; cleanliness had been one, as well as frequent meals. Ever since he had been rescued, Erik had bathed every day…possibly more if he could; he never felt like all the filth had been washed away.

He could clean his body…but the filth in his mind remained, and always would. They had done unspeakable things to him…things that would have destroyed a lesser man; they had treated their animals better than they had treated him and many of the other "freaks" they had caged.

Defeat had never been an option with him; Erik had a strong survivor's instinct when it came to others trying to wreck his life. Although he had locked himself away – separating mind from body – Erik had been able to maintain his sanity; something others had lost quickly and violently.

Taking a last minute glance at his reflection in the mirror, Erik hardly liked what he saw; although he had grown used to his decidedly grotesque looks. The black jeans he was wearing were tight in the thighs and buttocks, but fit him otherwise; Randi had given many pairs to him and he had let the length out of them. She had given him the sewing machine when he had asked for a needle and thread and Erik had taken an entire day to figure the blasted thing out; but once he had, he had actually made the jeans fit….well…mostly.

Erik smiled, remembering the shocked look on her face when he had asked for a needle and thread.

"You know how to sew?" She had asked, barely withholding the laughter in her voice.

Erik had smirked back, feeling lighthearted, "Yes, I do…otherwise; I would have run around completely unclothed for most of my younger life."

Randi had not seemed to find that image disagreeable; choosing to wink at Erik and then drop her eyes in sultry innocence…if there was such a thing. Most of the time, her actions and reactions toward him completely befuddled him. She could be distant and cold one minute, and the next she would devour him with a heated gaze. He was certain it was not him she had been thinking about when the flames lit her eyes, but he had liked seeing it anyway. He convinced himself it was most likely due to something he said that reminded her of some other man in her life…or one who had been a part of her life in the past.

Shirts weren't an issue, Clint Willows had been a broad man also; muscular at the shoulders, and slim at the waist. Erik had decided he liked the western style shirts he had been wearing. They were comfortable and stylish for the area; the other men he had seen from Rand and the surrounding places, dressed similarly. This evening, he donned a white shirt with a western scene stitched into the upper part of it. Horses were a big theme and Erik thought the shirts were very nice, but horses…he had yet to understand them; but he found himself missing Daffy on occasion, wondering how things had faired for the stallion.

He walked to the main house, feeling healed for the first time in a long time. He could walk without soreness invading him and his hands were no longer throbbing at every interval. The bandages had long since been removed and the stitching had all but disappeared; he felt good.

The work at the ranch along with long walks he took during the evening had given him back his original strength…if not more. He had been eating more than he was used to, and he found his frame was putting on a few pounds of muscle, giving him a much healthier appearance. Overall, he was pleased with it; he would need it as he worked more and more around the ranch.

Coming up on the house, Erik admired the vehicle, recognizing it as a "Sports Car"; at least that was what Cody called it. There had been no indication from the sound of Randi's voice that she was in any distress, and Erik was not going to chase after his silly intuitions again. He knocked stridently on the door and waited for Randi or Cody to answer, he wondered what this night held for him…revelation or regret.

___TBC_


	14. Chapter 14

I can get in one more chapter before I'm done for the a couple of months. I will be able to check my email once in a while, and if (by chance) I am able to have access to the internet long enough to upload a couple of chapters here and there...well, I hope that will make you happy.

Thanks for putting up with my exaggerated coin amounts and other things I've had to take liberties with...I do research as best I can, but some things are not easy to find and I have to do the best I can.

Anyway, enjoy.

TIME BETWEEN US

CHAPTER 14

She had taken his breath away the minute she opened the door, Erik went to take a breath and found no air in his lungs. Dressed in a flattering pair of black pants, a yellow tunic that showed a generous swell of bosom, and black pumps; Erik could not remember a time when she had looked so enticing. He had known her for approximately two weeks; shared numerous hours with her, stood in front of her wearing nothing but a towel; he had felt the tender touch of her lips to his marred cheek, had seen tenderness and doubt in her eyes - and he had come to realize that she was the strongest and most alluring woman he had ever known.

She had bravely faced a future that held little promise while trying to keep the appearance of normalcy for her little brother; she had taken him in without thought as to her own problems and had focused on his instead. She had looked upon him without disgust or revile in her eyes and had made him feel as though he might actually be worthy of some good things in life.

He still had no idea where he stood with her; he knew she was grateful to him for the money and other things; but he read something in her soft green eyes that gave him pause to think she didn't see him as a viable romantic interest. In all honesty, Erik had to admit he had never exposed the true nature of his interest in her; and the thought of doing so terrified him in ways made his soul tremble.

Randi tried to keep her hopelessly devoted heart from beating its way out of her chest. Despite evidence to the contrary, she didn't get any of gay vibes from Erik, something on which she had always prided herself. He was a delightful mystery to her in so many ways. There was an inimitable passion in his teal gaze that made her throb with a need she had never known before; the need to have him touch her, for him to bury himself within her untried virgin's body and never let her go.

Chad had assured that by the end of the night, she would know if Erik was really gay or not. Chad didn't feel that he was, but Randi had to know for sure before exploring any deeper her feelings for him. He sure looked scrumptious, having shed the "cowboy" look for the night and donning a pair of black jeans, a forest green dress shirt he had managed to find in her father's things, and a cream-colored, Cashmere cardigan her father had never worn. He also wore a pair of black leather Rockport's that he claimed were the most comfortable pair of shoes he had ever worn.

She had wanted to take him shopping that afternoon, but he had insisted that all he buy was a pair of shoes; the other clothes would suit him fine for now. Randi had sold most of the equipment and animals to provide for everyday living expenses and Erik's money, what was left of it, was sitting in an interest bearing account that was used to pay the bank note on the ranch. Neither of these sources was going to last forever, and Erik stated he had a way to take care of things - and he wouldn't leave room for argument.

He was business savvy, gorgeous, heroic, generous….and all she could think of as he stood there looking better than anybody has a right to, was that she would like nothing more than to rip the clothes off his back and have her wicked way with him; the thought landed a wickedly salacious glint in her eyes that Erik managed to miss…barely.

None of her ravishing thoughts were evident on her face, however, and Erik suppressed the nervous smile that would have given his lack of confidence in himself away with just a glance in his eyes. He followed her into the great room where Chad and Rick awaited them. Cody was spending the night with a friend in town; one of his school mates, and Randi had finally let herself have a little bit of fun.

"Erik…it's good to see you again." Chad stated while shaking his hand. "Allow me to introduce Rick Durban, he's my partner in life and business."

Rick smiled as he came forward, and accepted Chad's introduction. He was a couple of inches shorter than Chad and darker; sporting light brown hair and warm brown eyes. He struck Erik as confident and caring; and it was hard to miss the nature of their relationship, shining as it was in their eyes

Erik was not unfamiliar with such arrangements, he had seen and heard many things while at the opera house, and the gypsies had been very open about intimacy. In 1874, when he had left, France was far more progressive in its thinking when it came to sexual orientation than many of the other European countries.

"Rick…it is nice to meet you." Erik stated, politely inclining his head in a formal greeting.

Randi watched the exchange with a strange, inquiring gaze; her eyes meeting briefly with Chad's, who seemed to convey words with just a lift of his brow and a slight twitch of his lips.

"Why don't you guys get better acquainted and I'll finish dinner…we're having BBQ brisket, corn on the cob, fresh bread, mashed potatoes, and apple pie." She felt her heart swell with pride when Erik looked stunned at the extent of the menu, "I do hope all of you have your appetite."

"Is there anything I can do to help, Randi…Chad thinks I'm a pretty good cook and I can make a mean meatloaf?"

She chuckled charmingly, and walked toward the kitchen shaking her head, "No Rick…I think I can handle it." Rick rolled his eyes and followed her anyway, knowing he could lend a hand in some way.

After an awkward spell of complete silence, Chad could stand it no longer and clapped his hands together, causing Erik to look at him with intrigue.

"Randi tells me that she knows very little about you, overall. What did you do in France?"

He was digging for information and Erik was not sure what he could say that would leave the subject sufficiently explored but strategically indistinct.

"She is correct, I have not been very open about my childhood or recent past…neither was very pleasant." In fact, Erik could not remember a time when he had felt more than a fleeting moment of happiness or acceptance. "My childhood was quite brutal, as were my early teens; I have been scarred since infancy, but I was not born this way. I took an early interest in music – performance, composing, and interpretation….anything. I suppose music is my first love, but I dabble enough in architecture and design to make a decent living."

Chad was totally enthralled with Erik's history, grasping each nuance and flux in his tone, and concluding that he had suffered a great deal – both physically and mentally. They both sat down in the living room, and Chad indicated for Erik to continue.

"I was born into obscurity; no records or papers to prove my parentage and no idea as to my lineage. I have actually come to the United States to try and gain some form of identity and expand my business opportunities."

"You have no proof of identity…that is strange in this day and age." Chad stated; not doubting what Erik was telling him, but trying to comprehend the type of life he must have led.

"There were others like me…born in the dark parts of France under less than savory circumstances. I was raised in an orphanage that burnt down over fifteen years ago and all records were lost. No back-up system was in place to insure these records, such as they were, were able to be retrieved."

"Why did you leave France…it seems you were quite successful?" The question was a reasonable one, and one that Erik had been expecting.

"I have no family to hold me there…I am self-sufficient – taking my business with me – so I wanted a new start, someplace that didn't echo with my past."

Chad shook his head agreed, he more than understood the need to start over.

Erik had researched all angles of the story he was creating. It had to be feasible for it to be accepted, and after hours upon hours of searching through various websites on Randi's laptop, Erik had found and gathered enough information to form a realistic, modern background for himself. The anguish that had been his real life made the telling of it that much more believable.

Randi and Rick had heard the last few sentences and were astonished at the pain they heard in Erik's tone. Randi had avoided any question or subject that she thought Erik might find offensive or invasive; not wanting to push him in any way. Randi placed some chips and dip on the coffee table, avoiding the urge to sit down beside Erik and wrap him in her arms.

"There are several movies that we haven't watched yet guys…movies that you expressed an interest in." Randi went to the video cabinet and extracted several rectangular containers; successfully moving the attention off Erik's past.

Erik watched with rapt interest as she placed each of them on the coffee table for easy access and then crossed her arms over her chest and awaited some sort of decision.

Rick was the first to express his opinion, "I thought that the last time we got together we agreed that we would watch a musical…Randi has several that she likes."

They all turned to Erik as if the entire decision rested on his shoulders. He could not leave them to think he knew nothing about what they were discussing – although he did not – and he found it rather amusing that they expected him to choose.

"What do you think Erik…do you like musicals?" Chad asked; a smirk planted firmly on his mouth.

Erik could tell that Chad was teasing him; something Erik was not used to, but he lifted a dark brow, leaned back and crossed his long legs. A slight, devilish smirk played about his mouth.

"I told you that my first love was music, I have never seen a 'musical', as you call it; but I am sure that I will enjoy it if Randi does."

Rick and Chad shared "a look" and Randi arched a brow; she had found out more about Erik since Chad and Rick had been around him than she ever had before. Chad pulled himself up from the couch and headed for the kitchen.

"Anyone need something to drink…I do?" He captured Randi's elbow and lead her toward the kitchen with him.

"What is it Chad…you were practically sprinting to the kitchen for drinks."

He had the most sincere smile on his face, but a playful glint tinkered in his eyes, "If that man is gay than I'm the Pope."

Randi felt a rush of excitement stream through her, warming her all over and causing her heart to beat frantically in response to his words, "I knew it…it just didn't feel like he was."

"Yeah…he's as straight as they come, sweetheart…no doubt here." Chad reiterated with a shrewd grin.

"Thank you, Chad…I owe you won." Randi finished pouring the drinks and followed Chad back into the living room, her stop much lighter and her heart smiling.

۞۞۞۞

"Okay…musicals…" Erik noticed that Randi's mood seemed to have lightened, and she kept glancing at him with the strangest look on her face. Her smile was flirtatious, and Erik had no idea how to react to such things; he simply avoided looking at her as she listed the movies, "…we have 'Moulin Rouge', 'Oklahoma', 'Seven Brides for Seven Brothers', Calamity Jane', 'Showboat', 'Chicago', 'The Sound of Music', and my favorite, 'Phantom of the Opera'."

Erik had not really been listening; none of the titles meant anything to him until he heard "Phantom of the Opera". He slowly lifted his head, not wanting to seem too eager, and spied the outer cover of the movie. It showed a picture of a man who looked very much like he did, and a young woman with a generous whirl of brown curls, an angelic face, and closed eyes. Erik felt a swell of panic in his stomach.

"Erik…you okay?" Randi inquired, watching the color drain from his face.

Surely it could not be; there had to be some other explanation for the common name of "Phantom of the Opera" and the eerie resemblance the man on the cover bore to him. Erik felt sick to his stomach, feeling completely exposed in front of those he considered friends. Would they see the similarities that Erik knew were there…or was he just being paranoid?

"Yes, I am fine…" he insisted with a irresolute smirk and a sweep of his hand, "…put the movie on."

He tried to sound indifferent; but he was certain she heard the ghosts of his past whispering to her from behind the lies he so easily spewed. He felt the guilt eating away at his soul, for she accepted everything he said as though it were gospel and never questioned him.

"You guys need to scoot down on the couch; you're taking up all the space." Randi grumbled, playfully pushing Chad to make room.

"Forget it, Randi…you always lie on the floor or sit in the chair."

Her incensed glare did little to rattle him; all he did was glare back. She slumped onto the floor with the remotes; pulling several pillows from the couch and curling up with them. She was unaware of Erik's watchful gaze as she resolved herself to the floor. Imagine her surprise when Erik got up from the chair and walked over to her.

"Randi, you go sit in the chair, I will take the floor." Erik offered, shooting daggers with his eyes at the two men on the couch.

Randi looked up at him in surprise, having forgotten what a gentleman he was. There was something completely unrestrained and wild about him, but his chivalrous ways were what captured her the most. The feral light in his eyes was reflected perfectly in the quiet tinge of the living room, and Randi felt her heart leap friskily at the chance to touch his outstretched hand.

She gladly reached up and took his strong hand, hardly doing any of the work as he effortlessly helped her to her feet. Whether it was by accident or on purpose, or perhaps a bit of both, Randi stumbled into Erik's chest as she stood; both hands came up and rested firmly on him. As though they had a mind of their own, her hands began spanning the expanse of his chest, playfully touching the buttons on his shirt.

"Thank you, Erik…" she said beneath sultry eyes "…sorry for stumbling into you like that…" although she wasn't – not in the least bit, "….my leg was asleep" yeah, right – that was it.

Erik smiled, having suffered no ill effects of her supposed clumsiness; but instead, having to cope with his own body's iniquitous reactions. He made sure she made it to the chair without further problems, shot Rick and Chad a disparaging look, and then stretched out on the floor, prepared to watch the movie.

Throughout the movie, Erik was surprised at how eerily accurate some things were. The man playing "the Phantom" could be his twin, the opera house was very well represented, the Phantom's childhood was oddly truthful although lacked a great deal, the men playing the idiot managers were spot on, and the young woman playing Christine almost touched on the real Christine's beauty – although she was much too young….other than those things, nothing was even remotely close.

None of the antics were real; the insanity that plagued the Phantom, his murderous actions, nor the lack of support Madam Giry gave him. It was a glorious representation of what might have been, but Erik found himself resenting the story's dismal descent into a demented mind. He would have never done to Christine or Raoul what was done in the movie, it just was not possible. Although he had a violent background and a less than shining opinion of himself, he knew right from wrong…thanks to Bernadette.

In the end, all he had wanted was her happiness – which the movie seemed to bring out – but the movie Phantom had no touch on reality; and reality had been a constant and painful companion to Erik – never allowing him a moment of escape.

Thankfully, there was no way to link him to the character of the Phantom, the mask was a great idea; and he had experimented with such things several years ago. However, Bernadette had almost skinned him alive with her scathing tongue when she saw him moving about with the white half-mask secured on his face. She had hated it and said he had nothing to hide; a scar was just a scar.

When it came to the part in the movie where Christine exposed his deformity to the entire opera house, Erik noted that the face they had concocted was far worse than the actual face he possessed. They had done a good job of making him into the beast he was said to be, but Erik knew that it had not taken near that much marring of his face to label him a monster.

As flattered as he should have been that this movie was _loosely _based around his years in the opera house, Erik found that he resented being portrayed as an aging, lovelorn lunatic who was willing to destroy everyone's life to gain the attention of the woman he supposedly loved…ironically; Christine's lack of affection toward him was well displayed.

The final scene was gut wrenching and Erik found himself shedding tears over the plight of Phantom…he did not have a hard time picturing these events as the ending of what might have been…had he been _that_ Phantom.

The ending credits scrolled up the screen and Chad was the first to say it, "You know…it's weird that Erik resembles Gerry Butler a great deal…I mean, they could be twins."

"Yeah, and your name is Erik…just like the Phantom's….that is so cool!" Rick pointed out.

Noting the resemblance herself, Randi found it quite wonderful; but she noticed how uncomfortable such talk was making Erik, "Come on…leave him alone." she instructed.

She got up to take the DVD out of the player, still feeling the wonderful high the movie gave her. She enclosed it within its cover and turned to Erik with a smile on her face.

"That is still one of my favorite movies; but I don't like the book that much, isn't that strange."

_There is a book…_ Erik thought, almost rolling his eyes. …c_ould this get any worse?_

"I mean, I know Gaston Leroux originated the character and all…but I'm such a romantic at heart…the handsome, tortured, misunderstood – slightly crazy - Phantom is more my style."

Erik was not even listening to Randi's description, his thoughts were elsewhere. _Of course it could get worse…Gaston Leroux! That weasel wrote a book about me? He was not but a lowly reporter who spent entirely too much time around the opera house…ogling the girls and making numerous enemies._

Erik was less than pleased about this development. Gaston had been a pesky thorn in Erik's side most of the time; the young man was hardly worth the air he breathed. He had plodded along behind Erik on many occasions, asking irritating questions and making a general nuisance of himself.

"I agree…the book is more of a horror/romance….I don't even want to know where that comes from." Chad added with a roll of his eyes.

"What do you think, Erik?"

There was a long pause of complete silence; Erik felt the eyes staring at him and finely focused on those he was sharing the evening with. His thoughts had been occupied and he had not heard a word they were saying.

"Excuse me?" He asked, trying to look innocent.

"We want to know what you think."

Erik continued to stare at Rick and Chad, who had simultaneously made the inquiry.

"What I think about what?" He finally asked, hoping he didn't look like a complete idiot.

Both men giggled and gave each other that, "he's gorgeous" look, and then explained.

"We were all curious about your impression of the movie."

He was afraid of that; at least he could be thankful that they knew nothing of who he had once been. He could just be an interested third party and give his opinion, like anyone else could.

"Being a man with less than impressive features, who lived without purpose and direction for a great many years due to discrimination and superstition; I would say that the character of the Phantom was probably treated even worse than the movie depicts.

"After some research on the subject, I am convinced that he would have been treated as something less than human…as would have the midget that was in the movie…he too would have been an outcast."

Randi hadn't even considered that, but it made sense. Erik talked as though he had lived through great turmoil and knew a lot of what he spoke about. Not only that, but his voice was so soothing and articulate, Randi knew he was very educated and possibly had been in a teaching position somewhere.

His degrading description of himself had her eyes fixed upon his face. There was nothing about him that would be considered unattractive, not by any stretch of the imagination. His features were decidedly masculine; he had chosen to wear a closely barbed beard this day, practically covering the scar that he felt marred his male beauty and left him unattractive to the opposite sex.

Randi found she had a hard time removing her gaze from him. Although he was delightfully tall, his movements were fluid and elegant, as though he were a trained dancer. His hair was the only thing she would consider offset about him, the shoulder length of it was bound behind his head in a loose midnight blue tie that rested almost unseen within the blue-black sheen of his turbulent waves.

Every time his tumultuous green eyes landed on her, Randi could feel her soul reaching out to him with arms that longed to embrace all that he was. She had never felt this way about anyone, and it practically scared her senseless. There was something untamed within his stormy eyes that spoke of torment and angst that she was certain would leave her weeping for the rest of her life…should she ever hear of his dark, cancerous past.

Could she ever allow herself to get lost in those eyes…to cast every desire she held captive within her upon his strong shoulders and know he would be there to catch her when all was exposed, naked and vulnerable, before him?

She wanted to…of that much she was willing to admit.

Erik caught Randi's eyes on him, and his heart stood still; he wanted nothing more than to turn his attraction to her off completely…cast it far away…but it would not happen. Such were the ways of the heart, fickle as it was. The best he could hope for was to not make a complete fool of himself again; to not let his guard down and give her a glimpse of his true feelings.

The doorbell rang and everyone startled but Erik, who simply turned his head in the direction of the door. He remained calm on the exterior, despite the shameless twist of his stomach and the wickedly fast beat of his heart; she would never know.

Randi moved toward the door, puzzled at who it could possibly be; she opened the door to find Heidi on the other side. The tears running down her face were a tell-tale sign that she was distressed over something, causing Randi to immediately pull her into the house and press her sobbing face into her shoulder.

"Randi…" Heidi could barely speak through her sobs, "…I'm losing them."

To everyone else in the room, Heidi was speaking nonsense, but Randi knew exactly what she was talking about.

"Heidi…what's happened?"

Not wanting to make a nuisance of himself, Erik stood up to leave, hoping to follow behind Chad and Rick without being noticed. It was obvious to him that Randi's friend was distraught over something, and he did not want to intrude on her privacy. However, as he reached the door, he felt the weight of her gentle, long-fingered hand upon his elbow.

Before he could turn toward her, he heard her ask with a pleading tone, "Erik, please stay."

He pivoted slowly toward her and lifted his head; one look into her pleading, soulful green eyes, and Erik was lost.

___TBC_


	15. Chapter 15

This is probably my final chapter for a little while, until I get organized and back up and running.

I didn't plan it this way...but...

TIME BETWEEN US

CHAPTER 15

He had been driven here by a long black, indecipherable car; his hands tied behind his back, blind-folded, and thrown in the trunk. There were no visible marks on him that could be identified as abuse of any kind; and yet, he felt violated, just as he had the first few times this had happened.

The drive was long and tedious; winding in and out of mountain paths and the car was not the most comfortable ride he had ever been in…but then, how many times does one ride through mountain paths in the trunk? It gave him enough time to contemplate the brash decisions he had made that landed him where he was. Greed was a great motivator, as was the threat of death…and it was the threat of death that kept him going, but it had been greed that got him started.

The car finally skidded to a stop, hauling his head into the side of the trunk and causing what was sure to be a large bruise. Burly, bruising hands threw him out of the trunk and practically dragged him down a gravel path until he finally felt smooth floor beneath him. Somewhere in the distance, he heard the muffled hum of humanity as people carried out their every day tasks oblivious to the fact that the devil was doing business right below their noses.

"Chief waits in the Dark Room." A slightly accented voice instructed. He didn't remember hearing that voice before; cold and impersonal as it was.

He was roughly propelled down a cold corridor of some kind; the only sound around him was the steady click-clack of their booted feet upon the floor; as always, his shoes and socks had been removed, as had his shirt…most likely for the sake of humiliation or exposure…either way, it worked.

Just after he was thrust through an entrance of some kind, his knees were roughly kicked out from beneath him and he fell to floor in a painful thump, causing his knees to ache profusely. Wherever they had deposited him smelled of cigar smoke; to the point that he was gagging on it, but Sparks kept his composure as best he could. The smoke wasn't as confining as the fear that ran rampant up his spine, leaving him almost paralyzed from its strength.

The voice that resonated through the room and bounced off the walls was raspy and low, Sparks had heard it many times over the past couple of years, but it never ceased to leave him feeling cold and dead inside as it pierced him to his very soul. He had never actually meant Chief – not face to face;every time he was summoned for a meeting, the circumstances were different; but something told him the location was the same.

Although he didn't know his tormentor personally, Sparks shared one thing in common with him…they both sought power, in all forms. It didn't matter by what means they obtained it, but obtain it they would. To have power, one must have money, for it was from the love of money that evil stemmed.

Trying with no avail to see beneath the confines of the blindfold, Sparks felt a creepy assurance seep into his bones, an assurance that brought him no peace of mind; instead, he knew instinctively that his dealings with this devil would eventually be his ruin…but he was powerless to stop the spiraling events that had started harmlessly two years ago.

"It is done?" The gruff-voiced entity known only as Chief asked; leaving little doubt that if Sparks were to reply to the contrary, it would mean certain death.

"Just as you asked."

A low, menacing laugh filled the room, so dark and full of evil that Sparks was certain he had descended into the very depths of hell.

"I do not ask, you imbecile, I demand."

Sparks could hear a slight shift in the room, as though whoever he was with had risen to a standing position. The air seemed to disappear for a few moments, leaving him ready to gasp for breath. Sparks could feel the darkness falling around him, as threatening and alive as the man who stood somewhere within feet of him. The chamber in which he stood was thick-walled and deep within what could only be termed a modern castle…he could no longer sense the presence of others or hear the dull drumming of voices in the distance...no one would hear him scream.

"Do not mistake my delay in dealing with your failures as mercy…I have none."

The hoarse, ominous whisper was just over his left shoulder; Sparks felt his insides shrivel; he was certain that one more whisper or even a brush of flesh against his would be his undoing…or at least of the contents of his bladder.

"Your failures are becoming taxing, boy…..do not make me regret including you…I do it only for my son."

That was the third time that Chief had referred to his son, and Sparks was in the dark…in more ways than one. He could think of no one he knew whose father could demand such attention and complete devotion. So who was this man that had him dangling by a precarious string over a deep abyss full of the blood of their victims?

Oh yes, he had murdered…not in hand to hand combat or by bloodshed, but silently and from a distance; the cowards way. There was no going back for him…his soul was forfeit; but perhaps, if this monster he was bound to was sentimental enough to keep him around for the sake of son that Sparks had no memory of, he could share in the bounty and finally have peace….if only on earth.

"I never intended to fail you…" he heard his own voice reply…although it lacked his normal warmth and mirth.

"Yes….however..." and exhale and another large dose of cigar smoke, "...a well meaning fool, although he means well – in the end – is still a fool…" Thankfully, Sparks could tell that the man had gone back to sitting down…several feet away, "…and I don't pity fools, I don't humor fools, and I certainly don't keep them on my payroll…understood?"

Sparks understood, all too well. He had made the mistake of underestimating his antagonist before and found himself buried to his neck in sand with rattle snakes all around him. He had managed to grovel enough with his executioners that one phone call had pulled him out of the sand. That had been almost two years ago…but he still had nightmares where he felt snakes all over him.

The voices in his heart tried to silence his next words, but the voices in his head were far more powerful. If this "demon spawn" somehow found out that he had kept vital information from him…well, let's just say that the thought made him shudder.

"Who is this new man in her life...he seems like a worthy adversary?"

Sparks knew exactly who "her" was, and a raw jab of jealousy stabbed through him. Miranda Willows was on every man's "to do" list…and Sparks had yet to have that opportunity.

"He's a nobody…or so I've been told." Sparks tried to ward off any suspicions he had of the man...knowing that his weakness had already been flaunted before his man.

Silence never sounded so deadly. It was obvious that the hidden man smoked too much, as his breathing was gargled at times…but it only seemed to add to his deathly intimidating persona.

"Go on."

"He is some sort of ranch hand or all-around repair guy…I'm not sure exactly what he does. He has patched up much of the damaged fence on the property and continued to make mends wherever they are needed." Sparks rubbed his hand across his shadowed jaw, wondering how Chief would take the next bit of information he had to share.

"…he bought the note current and all her bills are paid."

A lion's horrendous roar could have been no more threatening than was this mans low, calculated growl.

"He is becoming a definite nuisance. A man doesn't spend that kind of money unless he's getting something for it..." If his voice had been deadly before, now there was a dangerous mix of jealousy and obsession that made the deadly even more potent. Trying to curb his fury, Chief continued , "…his scars are curious; I've seen them up close and personal. My sources say he is a friend, do you think he is a relative?"

"No…I don't believe so. I have seen them around town together and she seems enamored with him."

Fearing some repercussion for his news, Sparks took two penitent steps backward; and found himself backed against a formidable fortress of concrete. He could feel the breath of the dragon in front him – and a cold sweat pierced his trembling skin.

"He is no doubt sharing her bed – the swine – she is to be mine…." Sparks swallowed what he was certain was his tongue; "…I want him out of the picture; give it some time and be quiet about it when it happens. There is no need to spark unwanted attention and bring the authorities sniffing down our necks.

"I thought we had her bowing to us – docile and defeated – when her parents finally knocked off…." a sniveling snarl that was supposed to pass as a chuckle made Sparks shiver even more; he was suddenly hauled forcefully against a large, barrel-chested man with fetid cigar smoke invading his air – his back pressed painfully against the rough wall of concrete behind him, "….I want this intruders name, his money, and his life….as well as that innocuous brother of hers – I cannot be bothered with children."

He was almost free, but the voice crushed him once again, "If you don't think you can handle it, I will get one of my more experienced men to do the job; but I want it done."

Sparks closed his eyes in prayer, hoping that a great revelation would come upon him…but God didn't talk to him – or maybe Sparks chose not to listen – either way, he was doomed.

"I can handle it."

"I want that land and all the secrets that lie beneath it." There was sheer malice in the austere tone.

Sparks had overheard the men talking a few days back…something rested beneath the lands of Willow's Peak Ranch; and Chief wanted it. The lengths to which they had gone to obtain it would be considered extreme in the eyes of most people, but these men hardly blinked an eye when discussing the "removal" of someone or something.

The trip out of the stone castle was as secretive and painful as the trip in had been. They repeated the entire process, until they threw him back into his measly, Spartan apartment; he was impotent against any of the events that were occurring, so he just hoped he could ride the wave of blood into the pool of rewards…the alternative was as ill-fated as the consequences.

___TBC_

...I left you hanging...

Don't forget about me.


	16. Chapter 16

They haven't cut my internet yet, so I will give you this one.

Also, for those of you who are praying people, my daddy passed away early this morning and although I am sad for myself, my mother, and my brother, my daddy is now able to gaze upon the face of the One who died for him.

He is missed dreadfully by any and all who knew him...what a blessing this man was. I am adopted, so he chose to be my daddy; and I could not have picked a better one if I'd had the chance. God knows what HE is doing.

I ask that you pray for us, the family, that we may feel uplifted and encouraged during this time of loss. My mother suffers from Alzheimer's and my daddy took care of her, even after his death he had things planned out. Just pray that she is able to cope to life without him. He would have been 80 in February. Pray for me as my husband and I fly to Texas for the funeral and try to be there for my mother.

TIME BETWEEN US

CHAPTER 16

_Please stay…_two small words; but by uttering them to him, Randi had brought him home. There was something between uncertainty and desperation shining in her eyes, and the whisper of his name on her lips, with just a hint of what he thought was desire was all that he needed to make his heart swell with its newfound love for her.

In that moment, all that Erik had been – the bitterness, the loneliness, the constant need to be more than what he was - just seemed to fade away and what emerged was a new man; a phoenix who had always been there…resting beneath the surface, but whose wings had just been unbound after years of captivity.

There was a knot in his throat that rendered him unable to speak, but there was no need. Randi took a hold of his hand, lacing her fingers through his as though she would not survive another moment without his strength coursing through her; and that small gesture, though a typical action for normal couples, branded his soul.

His heart wrapped around those words and would not let them go…she wanted him to stay; for whatever purpose or to what end, he did not know, but stay he would. He closed the door that had been left open after Rick and Chad had left, and marveled at the way his feet seemed to have a mind of their own. They carried him back to her side and had him stand supportively by her, as though nothing was more natural.

In what had been the shortest and most rewarding three weeks of his life, Erik had fully recovered from what he considered minor injuries, learned to fix a fence, dig a post hole, corral horses, care for horses, clean out a barn, load a dishwasher, surf the net, and many other things that he would have never dreamed.

He was no stranger to manual labor, but after doing the chores that were required on the ranch, he grew a deep and much abiding respect for Randi – who had been trying to do them on her own for months. But despite the size of her heart and the amount of her determination, she was still a woman; and women were just not built to do such work over extended periods of time.

The weariness had been hard to find, but Erik saw it in the tired smile that often graced her pretty features, the soft pull of her eyes, and the sore set of her shoulders. She had been slowly sinking beneath the weight of it all before he decided to take on some of the burden.

As the days passed, he spent hours with her, learning from her; hopelessly falling for her without the inkling of a net to save his ravaged heart. He knew it was utter foolishness – this determined, stubborn place in his heart that refused to accept that he was unworthy of such affections; he was helpless to stop it.

They had shared many experiences, something Erik found most endearing. He had seen her eyes light up with laughter when he seemed completely overwhelmed and awestruck at technology she felt he should be familiar with.

"You're like a child on Christmas morning…getting a new toy and trying to make it work, but having no clue as to how to make that happen."

She had laughed at him as she said those words, but Erik knew how true they were. He continued to "play" the novice at many things, and grew quite enamored with her sharp wit and quick, consuming smile. She seemed comfortable around him, and hardly aware that he was a hideous creature; in her company, he almost forgot it himself….almost.

His years of abuse at the hands of the gypsies, his silent years as the Phantom that roamed the opera house, and as a connoisseur of many things, Erik had become an excellent listener and a top notch cynic. Now, as he stood beside Randi, his hand in hers as an anchor she seemed to need, he heard Randi's friend dispel a story that made his blood turn sour in his veins.

"The doctors can't find anything wrong with them, Randi…but their dying; I can see it in their eyes every time I'm with them…and they know it."

The distress and worry on Randi's face was matched only by the compassion and concern she felt for her friend. Heidi was leaning against Randi, curled beneath her arm on the couch – fighting exhaustion and utter despair. Erik found himself in the kitchen pouring three glasses of Brandy; hopefully, it would help calm Heidi's nerves and encourage her to sleep.

"Your parents are strong, Heidi…they'll get through this and the best doctors are in Denver." But even Randi felt the cold hand of death and destruction gripping her spine. Just a week ago, they had been fine…what had gone so terribly wrong?

Heidi's head jerked up and large tears descended down her cheeks as she considered Randi's words. Her eyes drifted to Erik as he handed her the glass of Brandy, as if seeing him for the first time. She swept his frame from head to foot and then looked back at Randi.

"You weren't here to watch your parents slowly deteriorate, Randi…no offense…but I was. When you were finally called in, I could bear it no more and stayed away…" She pulled Randi in for a deep, strong hug, "…I'm so sorry I wasn't there for you like you are for me."

Randi returned the hug, but quickly pulled back with a frown on her face, "Are you saying that your parents have the same thing wrong with them as my parents did?"

"The symptoms aren't all the same, but they seem to be succumbing like your parents did."

The doctors, though baffled, had made an educated hypothesis and ruled Clint and Misty Willow's death as heart failure; although they had both suffered greatly from digestive problems before other symptoms had set in. Practically every doctor in Denver had been brought in as a consultant on the case, but no one had seen anything like it.

From the onset of their symptoms – which were mild at first - it had taken a total of eight weeks for her parents to die. It was never really considered…the oddity that they would both die of the same symptoms within days of each other. It was rare, but not unheard of.

"I am calling for an investigation into the water supply…it could be tainted in some way…but I don't understand why I'm not sick." Heidi concluded. "None of this is making any sense."

She buried her head in her hands, sobbing once again. Randi tried to console her as best she could, but she and Erik both knew that Heidi needed rest and quiet so that she could come to terms with what was happening around her.

"We are not going to get any answers tonight, Heidi…why don't you sleep here tonight and tomorrow we will try to deal with this some more."

Heidi nodded, the languorous pull of sleep taking over her muscles. She managed to look back up at Erik as he helped her to her feet; she smiled broadly at him through tired eyes, "Tomorrow I will want to know the entire story as to who you are and what you mean to Randi…but tonight, I will settle for saying you are a beautiful man…and I have never seen her look at anyone the way she looks at you."

Having blushed profusely, Randi led her back to one of the guest rooms and settled her into the bed, making sure she was comfortable before returning to the dining room and Erik. She moved into his chest and wrapped her arms around his waist, holding him to her as though he were her life supply.

"Thank you for staying, Erik…I did not want to be alone to hear what she had to say."

Surprised beyond words, Erik was uncertain what to do with his own hands. Did he risk enfolding her luscious body in them and pushing her further against his rising interest, or did he simply pat her shoulders in assurance and keep a safe distance?

He finally decided to risk the embarrassment of her knowing exactly the effect she had on him, and embraced her in his arms. She felt ideal against him, her abundant curves accenting his hard muscled frame perfectly; it was a luxury Erik had thought to never experience.

"I can think of no place I would rather be." He found himself replying; not sure why or how he had even found the ability to talk.

She turned her head and placed a tender kiss upon his scarred cheek, than she pulled back, took his hand, and led him to the couch in the living room. She sat him down on the corner of the couch with his back pushed against the arm and than sat down next him.

"Erik…for the past couple of weeks I have been trying to fight my growing attraction to you."

She looked up and found his eyes firmly linked to her own; they were wracked with confusion at the moment – but so beautiful that she could hardly catch her breath. She shrugged her shoulders and began to explain, although she blushed with embarrassment.

"When you first woke up after the storm, you made a comment that led me to believe you were gay…that is why I introduced you to Chad and Rick. I tried miserably to just think of you as a friend and go from there..."

She reached up and cupped his cheek in her palm, rubbing the soft hair of his neatly cropped beard, "…tonight, Chad and Rick assured me that you are not gay, not at all."

It all made sense now…the way she had gone from flirtatious to friendly in just a matter of hours. What had he said that would make her think such things of him? He couldn't even remember half of what he had said during that time.

Following instinct, he leaned into her, curling her between his strong arm and the hard, warm drum of his chest. Her scent was intoxicating and he found he wanted nothing more than to nuzzle the soft curve of her neck and taste the sweet nectar of her warm skin. As it was, he settled for smoothing back a feisty curl of fiery hair that stubbornly refused to stay out of her eyes.

"All you had to do was ask, Miranda….I would have told you I was not attracted to men." The deep lull of his desire-filled voice sent a shooting dose of sensual tremors up her spine.

Her eyes took on a sensual glow that Erik had never seen before; turning a deeper, more opulent green and the pupils dilated as though a rush of desire had raced through her. She gently lured his head down toward her, bringing his mouth to within an inch of her own.

"I would prefer that you showed me."

___TBC_

Short but oh so sweet.


	17. Chapter 17

Hello, my faithful readers and friends.

As you have probably figured out by now, I have access to the internet for now. I am not sure how often I will have it, but I will post when I can until life returns to normal (at least normal for me).

Thank you for your heartfelt words at the loss of my father. I was devastated, but I have the hope and faith that I will see him again. He was my hero.

I hope this chapter will wet your appetite for more...

CHAPTER 17

Without analyzing her motives or mulling over his inexperience, Erik took what she offered; barely skimming her lips in a tender kiss that started on the soft corners of her mouth. Teasing her mouth gently with his lips, he found himself sinking into the couch and drawing her over his chest until she lay atop him.

His mind shut down, leaving his raging body in control. His hands found the tendrils of her hair and wrapped them around his fingers, until he had no choice but to let go and draw them through the thick folds until he cupped her face in his hands. He heard her softly moan against him and thought he had never heard anything so erotic in his lifetime.

Their lips were still touching in feather-light kisses; Erik had not the courage to deepen the kiss as the voices in his mind and the tightening in his groin encouraged him to do, and he was sure that it was not the appropriate thing to do for a first kiss.

He moved from her mouth to softness of her cheek and moving on, nuzzling the strong pulse at the center of her neck. He resisted the overwhelming urge to run his tongue along that pulse and up to her ear; just the thought of performing such an act on her had him heavy with desire.

They were learning each other, finding that they needed each other very much…each needing the others strength and determination; needing the passion that roared to life when their eyes happened to touch, and the powerful draw of the attraction between them.

Erik released his hold on her lips and lifted his sultry eyes, "If we keep this up, I am afraid I will not be responsible for my actions."

His teasing whisper made a thrill rush up her spine, and she felt her knees go weak. He definitely felt tremendous against her…and he tasted like a piece of heaven. She rested her head atop his hard chest and heard the steady, strong pound of his heart. His lips grazed her forehead and it was only a matter of moments until she drifted to sleep right there…atop his body…wrapped in his arms.

Not wishing to disturb her, but knowing this could not be comfortable, Erik slid carefully down onto the couch, bringing her with him. She was still atop him, and Erik reached down and drew her legs up and onto the couch, then turned her on her side, facing the back of the couch with her backside against his hips. They fit, so Erik planted another kiss upon her exposed neck, and spooned against her; growling quietly when she pushed her delicious derrière harder against his enflamed body…it was going to be a long, agonizingly wonderful night.

۞۞۞۞

Sometime in the middle of the night, Randi awoke to the feel of strong, sheltering arms keeping her from the harms of the world. The most wonderful, manly scent drifted her nostrils and she immediately smiled. _Erik…_ everything he had done for her the night before filled her thoughts and she knew she could not…ever…live without him. She was a 26 years old woman who had 

been looking for a love like this; a man she could trust with her life and her heart, and know he would cherish them both.

Every cell within her knew that Erik was her mate…the one chosen for her. She knew that he was attracted to her…that was obvious; but for a man, attraction was the easy part – could he give her his heart in return? Tears formed at the corners of her eyes; fear of the unknown once again settling in her soul…she would have to make her desire to be with him even more obvious; she sensed that he had been hurt very badly at some point in time, and his heart was not going to be an easy conquest.

Their kiss had made her want much more; made her yearn for things she had never desired before. If he had deepened the kiss, she was not sure if she would have had the presence of mind to stop him from claiming everything she had…and she wasn't sure she would have wanted him to stop.

Settling against him once more, Randi allowed sleep to claim her once again, knowing that Erik would be there in the morning, still holding her against him. Providence had stepped in and sent her the one thing she had always longed for…love.

Hours later, long after she should have been up and about, Randi stretched her lithe form only to find that Erik was no longer beside her – or beneath her – and she felt his absence copiously. It took a few minutes for her senses to awaken enough for her to hear someone mulling about in the kitchen. She stretched one more time, yawned lazily and arose quickly, padding on bare feet to the kitchen.

Peeking around the corner to avoid detection, Randi caught sight of a bare-chested, tousle-haired Erik rustling up breakfast in the form of French toast, sausage with maple syrup, hash brown potatoes, and orange juice. She leaned against the door jam, knowing that he would not notice her for some time…he was completely engrossed in cooking. He was absently humming _"Music of the Night",_ and the rich, dulcet tones were stunningly beautiful.

_Forget barefoot and pregnant…I want this man bare-chested – better yet, nude – singing, and cooking for me every day of my life._ Randi thought, lazily drawing her hungry eyes over his masculine deliciousness.

The play of muscles across his back and down his arms was a work of art; he moved like water over rock – elegantly soft, decidedly powerful, puzzlingly gentle, gracefully smooth, and unforgettably beautiful. His muscles were toned and carved, supporting his six foot three inch frame with the ease of an athlete. Her mouth was watering, and she was certain he could hear her breathing deepen and lengthen, as everything female within her reacted to everything male in him.

When he finally did turn to catch her looking at him, she saw his surprised gaze turn impassioned as she ran her eyes over his perfect, just-the-right-amount-of-hair, chest, following the dark trail down past the waist of his blue jeans, and then working their way back up to his sensual green eyes.

She was undressing him with her eyes, and Erik could feel his groin tighten in response. Never, in all his years, had a woman ever looked at him that way. "I do not know how I have lived this long without having a woman look at me like you look at me….you make me feel worthy of your gaze."

He swallowed a deep-throated groan as she moved toward him, her hips swaying seductively – although he knew she was not trying to be that way. She finally stood directly in front of him and could not resist touching his bare flesh; splaying her hands over the rigid muscles of his abdomen and skimming his pectorals before wrapping around his neck and pulling his mouth onto hers.

The kiss was still a gentle one, but she could feel that his resolve crumbling, little by little. She moved her lips over his, coaxing them slightly open with the tip of her tongue, and she felt him jolt slightly against her; he opened to her – only slightly, but it was enough for her move her tongue gently over the surface of his….giving him the freedom to deepen the kiss when next they indulged.

"You are worthy." She whispered into his ear, before standing back and smiling into his happily stunned features. "So…is breakfast almost ready?"

Erik had almost forgotten about breakfast, and his stuttering movements let her know that he was having a hard time focusing on anything but her at the moment. He found his discarded shirt lying over the side of a chair and quickly pulled it over his naked chest. Randi frowned decidedly, but Erik was too busy finishing breakfast to notice.

"Yes….ah…yes it is. Please go get Heidi and Cody…then we can eat."

She giggled openly as she realized he could not make eye contact with her; he knew she was quite aware of how much of an effect her kiss had had on him….and she was eager to continue torturing him in such a way for the rest of her life.

۞۞۞۞

Later that night, after spending hours listening to the doctors use opulent terminology and flowery phrases to inform Heidi that they had no idea with what they were dealing, Erik sat pensively in the corner of his home; the single, diminutive lamp illuminating the corner. There was something tugging at the back of his mind…a gnawing sensation that he knew indicated something was not right.

Too many coincidences were happening in close secession; Erik separated each event as he knew them – piecing together bits of information. He had listened to Randi remorse about the loss of her parents; all that they had suffered over the course of two months before finally succumbing to the mysterious ailment.

If there was one thing he'd had plenty of time to do while fighting the demons beneath the opera house, it was learn. He had rapidly devoured any and all information he could get his mind 

around…in much the same manner he had adjusted to the modern times so quickly…sheer determination and a strong will.

Bernadette had called him brilliant, genius, and other such elevated things; but Erik dismissed such notions, thinking he had just been so desperate for anything that would keep him busy. Music had reigned supremely, but there had been other interests. One subject fascinated him immensely; for reasons that had seemed pertinent at the time. Over the years, he had familiarized himself with the different components and chemical breakdown of every element known to man.

There were several with which he had a perverse amount of knowledge – having been injected with them when he was younger as a form of discipline and torture – and he knew their effects when he saw them. Clint and Misty Willows as well as Heidi's parents were suffering because such an element had been introduced into their bodies.

Erik's thoughts strayed reluctantly to the past; a time when he had almost given into the pull of suicide. It had been an attractive end to what he had deemed a useless life for several years, even with Christine becoming dearer to him with each passing day. Poison was one of the many means by which he had considered ending his life…no mess to clean up for whoever was fortunate enough to discover his decomposing body. There would have been a great deal of suffering involved, something that would have required him to take notes, as best he could, while the poison had devoured him. At least science could have gotten some use out of his wretched cadaver.

Thankfully, by some divine act, he had overcome those dark days, but Erik knew he would always be susceptible to such total depression and self-hatred, it was his nature. He had never had very much affirmation in his life; although Bernadette had done her best. However, by the time she had come into his life, too much damage had already been done.

He put aside his reading and rubbed his tired eyes, stretching his long legs out in front of him and yawning. As he turned out the light, he gave a last look at the main house and saw that Randi's bedroom light was still on. Heidi was still there and after a few minutes in the company of two chattering females, he had quickly bid them both a quiet farewell, foregoing a goodnight kiss from Randi, and slipped out the door.

How was he going to convince Randi that her parents had been poisoned without delving into the muck that was his past? They had started what Erik would call a relationship, the kissing was full of passion - as much from her as from him – and he was not sure enough of his ability to keep her interest to not tread softly over the dainty petals of their newfound attraction.

As he readied himself for bed, many thoughts were coursing through his mind. Foremost was getting to France and finding his mothers tomb; and with it, the remainder of the coins and two gold bars. He had several obstacles that seemed insurmountable, but he would enlist Randi's help in overcoming them.

The thought of taking her to Paris and walking the streets under the full light of the sun with her on his arm sent a sweet sensation rushing through him. He was certain the ghosts of his past 

would be watching him, finding him more human than they had ever thought him. What would Bernadette think, seeing him with a beautiful woman at his side, looking at him with eyes full of desire and other illicit things? What would Christine think?

Erik found it odd that while he laid there in bed, his body reacting to thoughts of Randi lying atop him – her lush curves pressed against him in the most intimate places – that he could not even muster up an image of Christine. Her voice still rang in his mind on many occasions, especially when he heard modern songs that her voice would have meshed beautifully with; but an image…all he could see in his minds eye were sumptuous folds of flaming hair, verdant eyes that seemed to see only him, and soft, sweet lips swollen from his kisses.

His body was afire, throbbing and heavy with need. Never had he thought himself capable of such an acute reaction to someone. His passion had always been in check, never escaping the cage of his control; but Randi…sweet vixen that she was….had him perched upon a pillow, his eyes half lidded in passion as he wrapped his hand around his aching sex. He seldom indulged in such things, but having Randi so close to him all day, wrapping her arms around him as though he belonged to her; the wickedly sensual scent of her skin and hair penetrating his senses in the most potent of ways – there was little he could do to stop…and he had no desire to.

The strong pressure of his hand was a poor substitute for what he knew was the velvety sheath of her body; the sound of his own moans a pathetic replacement for the purr of her passion spurring him toward a spiraling climax. When the time came, he would ensure she took hers first; gliding into her with such ferocious tenderness and bridled strength that she would feel him bury his seed deep within her as she screamed his name during her powerful release.

Erik arched his hips as his loud hum of passion filled the darkness; he felt his body tremble as his release jetted from his body in strong streams, landing on the flexing muscles of his abdomen. He convulsed a few more times and stilled, enjoying the tingling sensation that an orgasm always produced; but he longed for the time when he could enfold the woman he loved in his arms and sleep peacefully with her by his side after a night of making passionate love to her.

TBC


	18. Chapter 18

Hello again!!

I finally got the opportunity to post another chapter. I'm still not in my house, but it shouldn't be much longer (pray hard!!)!!

A sweet, little girly chapter...that's what we need!! Don't worry, it's not all sunshine and roses from here on out...there's a few things going on that will come to fruition in time.

Trust me.

Enjoy!!

CHAPTER 18

It was like being back in junior high and having all your friends over for a slumber party. Heidi was Randi's best friend, and they had been through a great deal together: gym class, first crush, first kiss, first heartbreak, and so much more that came with being a pre-teen, and then a teenager.

The years after high school had put distance between them, but that could not change the times they had shared and secrets they held for each other. Once they had gotten past the tears of anxiety and uncertainty, Randi and Heidi decided to spend the evening together, just being girls.

They were currently lying on their stomachs, cockeyed on the bed; their legs in the air, wearing nothing but painted toenails and nightshirts. They had ordered a pizza and Celine Dion, Dido, Alanis Morrisette, Sarah Mclaughlin, and Mariah Carey were rotating songs on the CD player…it was going to be a great night.

"Okay Randi, fess up….who is that gorgeous man you were with not two hours ago?"

Randi smirked and then shrugged her shoulders as though it were the most natural thing in the world for her to have a man in her life.

"Erik Marchand…he's from France..."

Heidi wiggled her eyebrows and then smiled wickedly, "And…."

"…he had a very horrible childhood and after years of not finding what he wanted in France, he wound up here."

Heidi found Randi's answers elusive and vague, so she drew her own conclusions, "So…he has issues and needs someone to care for him?"

Randi rolled her eyes, "No silly, he is the one that has helped me."

"Really?" Heidi expressed with a wiggle of her brow and a wicked smirk.

Randi could not help but giggle at the way Heidi grew more and more intrigued with every word she said about Erik…she was going to drag every detail out of her if it was the last thing she did.

"Yes…he actually sold a rare coin he owned and paid off the debt I owed on the ranch, and he has been supporting us ever since."

This was a rare moment in time…one for; which Randi wished she had a camera; Heidi Windom was speechless! Randi just sat there with the most innocent look on her face, waiting for her friend to find her voice.

"But…but…ah – my gosh – you owed a great deal of money on the ranch…how on earth did he manage that?"

"The coin was very rare and the buyer was most eager…he says he has more of them and other items that will be worth cash…he just has to go get them."

"This is too good to be true…the man is like a knight in shining armor, Randi…is there another one just like him floating around somewhere?"

Randi giggled, loving the fact that Heidi seemed to have forgotten her woes for the time being.

"I don't think so, but I'll keep my eyes open…" Randi dropped her eyes a little and nervously asked her next question. "…he grew up in an orphanage in France and the building burnt down years ago…along with any proof that he exists. All he had was a few items that had been left to him by his family, but nothing proving who he is…I am thinking of asking him to marry me, then he will be a US citizen just by marrying me, and I can give him the identity he needs."

Heidi should have been surprised; Randi was the practical one – never giving in to whimsical desires and strange wishes. She always managed to keep her head out of the clouds and deal with things on a logical level that had everyone around her thinking she was much older than her 26 years. However, there was a determined tone in her voice that had Heidi certain that she knew what she was doing…and Heidi also knew that she had never seen Randi flushed in such a wonderful shade of love.

"You love him…don't you?"

Randi's eyes filled with tears, unable to hide the truth within her heart. She had loved him the night he came into her life and collapsed on her floor in a black heap; she had fallen head-over-heals in love with him when he stood unflinchingly in front of her in nothing but that ridiculous pink towel, refusing to buckle under the embarrassment she saw in his cheeks.

"I do…am I crazy?" Randi whispered, throwing her hand over her mouth to hide the happy squeal that was threatening to escape.

"Who are we to say that love is crazy….it just happens…" Heidi said with a calm assurance that Randi could not remember ever hearing in her, "…he's gentlemanly – a rarity in these times – he's certainly handsome…and that hair!! My goodness…I just wanted to run my hands through it and see where that black river of silk would lead!"

Randi swatted her on the arm, but felt proud that Heidi saw the qualities in Erik that she saw in him.

"That's not the half of it, Heidi…he has stood beside me and learned every chore there is to perform on this ranch…every one of them…and never complained. He has dug post holes and repaired fences, he has learned to corral the horses and keep them groomed, he has cleaned out numerous stalls and continues to keep them clean…"

Randi went into a giggling fit, leaving Heidi to wonder about her sanity for a few seconds, "…he even learned to ride a horse…very well I might add, but…"

**FLASHBACK**

_The horse in front of him was a sizable beast…very dangerous looking. Erik was certain that the evil creature – with its big, gentle brown eyes; soft nose, shiny brown coat, and gentle demeanor – was out to get him. After all, horses were all conniving and cunning brutes, which did nothing all day except plot the demise of their masters, as Daffy had taught him._

_She could not seriously want him to lop himself onto the animals back and leave his life in its hands – or hooves as the case was; she could not be serious!! They stood there, Erik glaring menacingly at Legolas…as he was called; and Legolas paying him no mind, but being content to just stand there looking innocent and unsuspecting – a ruse if Erik had ever seen one._

"_Erik…he can't ride you. If you intend to accompany me to the back part of the property, you have to get on him."_

_He watched her proudly sit astride her own horse – another giant animal with a mask of serene gentility; she appeared to thinking nothing of his sure demise IF he did as she asked. He turned toward the beast and swallowed the large knot of fear in his throat._

"_That's what she thinks…'get on him' she says…like it's the easiest thing in all the world." Erik mumbled to himself, not wanting Randi to realize just how paralyzed he was at the prospect of crawling atop the horses back._

_It had never bothered him to be outdone by a woman – he would have succumbed earlier than this if it would have meant a woman in his arms. He had never had the competitive spirit in that way; he didn't like to lose to another man, but losing to a woman seemed to have hidden advantages – and losing to Randi had an appeal he could not even begin to explain to himself. _

_Randi observed the sweat beading on his forehead, the slight hitch in his voice, and breathy insecurity in his voice…she did not mind another opportunity to look at him…he simply seduced her with his every move and she enjoyed being near him._

"_Randi…I do not believe that propelling myself onto the back of this creature is necessary…I can walk the distance quite easily." He tried to sound resolved and steadfast, but the tremble in this voice refused to stay down._

_He had groomed Legolas, saddled Legolas, and walked Legolas, but he had never considered – even for a minute – that he would ride Legolas. The tossing of his stomach told the whole story without a word being uttered; he was not fond of the idea of riding astride the magnificent beast…not in the least._

_Randi was, of course, still perched proudly upon the back of her Betsy Mare; eager to head down the trail toward the back properties; they were due to inspect the buildings that needed to be repaired before even attempting to open the ranch again. She waited patiently for Erik to get his act together._

"_Erik…have you ever ridden a horse?"_

_There it was; the million dollar question. How does one answer that question without sounding like a complete idiot?_

"_That would depend on your definition of 'ridden'…" Erik growled with dark amusement, "…if you mean have I actually sat upright on the back of a horse and stayed there while the beast was moving…" Randi shook her head 'yes' and arched her brow, "…than no, I have not successfully ridden a horse."_

_Disguising a laugh behind a cough, Randi climbed elegantly down from her horse and proceeded to walk Legolas over to the stump of a tree that was perfectly situated in the middle of the corral. Erik followed, hoping that she would realize the folly of such things._

"_Get up on the stump, Erik…climb onto Legolas' back and get comfortable in the saddle. Don't worry, he won't leave you hanging."_

_She wanted to giggle, Erik could see it in her eyes, but she didn't; and he appreciated her even more for that. He did as he was told, knowing that she was the expert and he the novice. He carefully and without much finesse, dragged his leg over the back of the horse and managed to lift his body – which suddenly felt as heavy as lead – into the saddle. _

_Thankfully, Legolas did not appear to be as cantankerous as Daffy had been – or perhaps it was the lack of a playful spirit that was missing – but either way, Erik was finally able to let go of the animals neck and sit up straight in the saddle, before feeling dizzy at the prospect of actually moving._

"_What's wrong, Erik?" Randi asked, noting the color had drained from his face and he was sweating profusely._

"_Motion sickness." He managed to say before leaning back over the neck of the beast, closing his eyes, and going to his happy place._

_Randi rolled her eyes and patted Legolas neck, letting the gelding know that he was doing a good job._

"_You're not even moving yet." She said, trying not to laugh._

_Erik swallowed the sickness that was rising in his throat and managed to say through pressed lips, "It's more the idea of motion that sickens me."_

_At that, Randi could suppress her laughter no longer._

**END FLASHBACK**

"He finally learned to control the crippling fear that he had of horses – or at least of riding horses; now he's quite accomplished at it and getting better every day."

Heidi pictured the whole scene in her head, laughing outrageously at the idea of a man of Erik's obvious strength and fortitude being afraid of riding a horse.

"There is something so innocent about him…like he's just become acquainted with the modern world. He's amazed by some of the every day things that go on around him."

"Like what?"

Randi chuckled and shrugged her shoulders, "Like computers, cars, and airplanes…." Her face lit up, "…airplanes really fascinate him; he wants to have on of his own!"

"Who knows…maybe some day he will."

Randi once again shrugged her shoulders and smiled, "Perhaps…." Amusement swirled in her eyes, "…I wondered how on earth he would accomplish that when he was so afraid of riding a horse…but he mastered that so he can master flying in an airplane."

Heidi cocked her head in agreement, "Well, I think it's refreshing to meet a man who finds beauty in such everyday things…it's quite sexy."

Erik continued to be the topic of choice as the evening progressed. The two women ended up at the piano singing Barry Manilow at the top of their lungs and than sat down and watched "A Walk to Remember" and "Dear Frankie"; crying through each movie.

"Whew…I tell ya, that Gerry Butler could read the phone book and my heart would do summersaults…" Heidi confessed as they prepared to go to bed, "…and it never occurred to me until a few minutes ago how much your Erik looks like Gerry…I mean, it's really uncanny."

Randi fixed her with a cockeyed smile and a dip of her chin, "He's not _my _Erik."

Heidi cocked an admirable brow, remembering the way Erik had looked at Randi every time he'd had the chance, "Oh but he is…and I suspect that he will know it soon enough."

TBC


	19. Chapter 19

Not in my house yet..."delays" is what they call it, "maddening" is what I call it!!

Anyway, here's another one...

CHAPTER 19

The next morning was overcast and thunder clouds loomed overhead. Before Randi could muster the energy to arise from the bed, rain was coming down in thick sheets and gently playing a melody on the window in her bedroom.

Ever since she was a little a girl, Randi had loved storms; the feel of the rain against her skin and the fresh smell that always lingered on the air. Even at 26, she still felt the newness come over her every time she walked out into the rain or watched a storm play a visual symphony in the skies.

Once she stretched loudly, she threw on some jeans and a lacey camisole, poured herself a cup of the freshly brewed coffee that awaited her every morning, and sat on the front porch, pulling her feet beneath her and sipping contentedly on the hot contents of her mug.

How had her life changed in three short weeks? Erik had managed to carve out a future for her and Cody, and had not asked for that much in return. He had quite easily and completely claimed ownership of her heart - even if he hadn't acknowledged it - leaving her to seek his company whenever possible and realize that she would not be truly happy until she owned his heart as well.

Pulling the mug to her lips again, Randi peeked over the rim to see a blue Silverado coming up the long drive. It had been several weeks since she had seen it headed her way, and a gentle smile curved over her lips as it came to a stop in front of the house.

"Dale Martin, it's been awhile..." Randi smiled and stated as he ran from the pick-up to the porch to keep from getting soaked from head to toe.

He smiled a boyish grin and shook the water from his sandy hair, "Yes, it has been. I thought I'd drop by for a visit and I just happened to be headed this way this morning, so...I thought to myself - what better time than now."

He drew his eyes over the horizon and sighed, the sight always took his breath away. "I see you still enjoy sitting on the porch and watching the storm."

She nodded and indicated for him to have a seat.

"Would you like some coffee?"

Randi headed indoors to get him the coffee he had indicated he wanted, feeling vigorous and energized by the fresh smell of the newly doused soil. She marveled at how she had ever thought to survive in New York...it would have eventually sucked the life out of her. She still found it amazing how much the ranch and every nuance of ranch life meant to her.

She pushed back through the screen door to hand Dale his coffee and then sat back down in much the same position she was in before he came. They sat silently for a few minutes, enjoying the rain - which had gentled to a quiet sprinkle.

"So, Dale...what have you been doing to keep yourself busy?"

He blew a few more times on the coffee before finally taking a slow, drawn out sip. After he had pulled the black java into his system, he raised his honey-colored eyes to Randi.

"I was working out at the Windom's place before they got sick...now I'm doing odd jobs around town - wherever I can find work."

Heidi had mentioned that he had worked there...but he had not been around much and Heidi did not care for him much as a person - although they had attended the same schools, Randi did not know that much about him. She found him to be pleasant enough company, though; he was certainly cute, in a boyish kind of way. His honey-colored eyes and sandy hair had never been her type, but Randi found him agreeable enough to talk to.

"I hear that you have someone helping you now...someone who has enough money to get the ranch going again."

That was disturbing, Randi had not told anyone and neither had Heidi...and she was most certain that Erik hadn't; he avoided talking to others as though they all had a contagious disease.

"Who told you that?"

"It's all around town...I don't know who initially mentioned it, I just know that I heard it."

As if on cue, Erik chose that moment to appear over the small hill that was only yards from the house, riding astride Legolas with an ease and grace that he had not possessed but a week and half ago. He had apparently been caught in the rain storm and had removed his drenched shirt and tied it around his waist.

Randi could feel the heat of his gaze as he rode closer; she was unable and unwilling to stop the pool of warmth that gathered at her core when she knew he was watching her. His touch did strange and wonderful things to her, and it was exhilarating to find that he didn't even have to touch her to send a thrill up her spine.

Pulling the reins to stop Legolas, Erik drew his long legs over the animal and dismounted; he patted the horse on the neck, soothing him with a voice that could calm the most raging of beasts. When finished, he swept his hand through his drenched hair, and then shook the dark mane to remove the heavy droplets that clung to it.

Randi drank in every inch of him...as it had been hours since she had seen him. She loved his chest...roped cords of muscle played beneath the smooth skin - equally impressive were his arms and stomach as she scanned them with her hungry gaze; tiny rivulets of rain still sizzled on the surface of his shoulders and biceps, making her want to lick it from him with slow, drugging swipes of her tongue.

Staggering to catch her breath, Randi smiled languorously up at him as he glided effortlessly over to stand by her side. Although he did not touch her, Randi could feel the warm solace of his presence soothing her like aloe on a sun burn.

Erik narrowed his evergreen eyes at the young man, recognizing him as the one Randi had spoken to at the auction a couple of weeks ago. The boy was disgustingly attractive: light hair, light eyes, light spirit...each things that Erik would never be, even if he lived to be a hundred. However, when he dropped his gaze to smile at Randi, Erik was pleased to see that she held no love for the annoyingly handsome man; she seemed friendly enough, but there was no affection other than normal for him.

Erik was most pleased.

Randi seemed to catch herself, realizing she was being rude, "Erik, this is Dale Martin, one of the ranch hands my father hired but had to let go because of budget cuts." The men regarded each other with open disapproval, "Dale, this is Erik Marchand, he has helped to restore much of Willow's Peak so that it can reopen in the spring."

Erik extended his hand, towering over the younger man like an ominous mountain. They shook hands, each of them sizing up the other with their eyes.

Although Dale was threatened by the dark, scarred stranger, he tried to hide the immediate discomfort he felt by disguising it behind a fabricated smile. It was he who had stepped in and taken control when Randi's parents were ill; he who had been the shoulder there for Randi to take comfort in; no matter how many corners she turned, Dale knew he held a special place in the young woman's heart...he counted on it.

Dragging her eyes from Erik's delectable body, Randi tried to give Dale the smile she knew he desired. He had been infatuated with her for months, but she did not return the sentiments; having made that quite clear several times.

"I'll be back in a few moments." Randi said, quickly leaving the men standing there.

Erik propped a foot against the pillar on the porch, and leaned his back against it; he folded his arms across his chest and remained impassive toward the younger man. His furtive eyes missed nothing, despite the fop's attempts to hide his true feelings.

"You live here, Erik...in the house?"

Although Dale's tone was oddly steady, Erik had lived too long to miss the underlying edge. There was lust banked in his amber eyes, and Erik felt the rage curling in the pit of his stomach. If he was not careful, Golden Boy was going to end up with more than the wind knocked out of him.

"Personally, I don't see how that is any of your business." Erik countered, his civilized tone blanketing a sound warning. "However, to keep from soiling Randi's reputation, the answer is no, I do not live here at the house."

At least he was smart enough to keep his response to himself; but Erik had clinched his fists in preparation for a fight that he was itching for. It was obvious by her startled look that Randi felt the negative energy passing between them as she came back out. She laid some cookies on the table, thinking they may have wanted a snack.

She went back to Erik and placed her hand upon his; he immediately felt the calming effect her touch; uncurling his fist and encasing her hand within the sheltering cocoon of his. If they had been alone, he would have ravished her mouth with a branding kiss, letting the world know that she was his...even if he had not yet expressed his possessive thoughts to her.

Erik could not believe his eyes, the cad actually leered at him, "I didn't mean to imply anything, I was just making an observation is all - Randi is free to sleep with any one of her choosing."

Then he actually had the nerve to wink at Randi with a suggestive glint in his eyes. Erik could tell she was not comfortable with his crude insinuations. His control was dangling by a thin thread, but he managed to keep a deadly calm in his voice.

"I think you should go...now." Erik ground through clinched teeth, his fists aching to pulverize that pretty boy face.

Again, Golden Boy narrowed his eyes at Erik; laughable really...Erik thought about how much the twit reminded him of Raoul. In surrender, the idiot actually lifted his arms and backed away.

"Look, Dude...I have known Randi for several years and I suppose I'm just protective of her, I did not mean to offend in any way."

Erik narrowed his eyes and lifted his chin, reading all that he could from the man he considered an intruder. The only thing keeping his head on his shoulders at this point was Randi. She didn't seem attached to the stranger in any way...not on a romantic level; but Erik knew there was a history there, somewhere.

"I am here to protect her now...at her request."

Erik could have sworn he saw smoke coming out the younger man's ears. The loathing in his eyes was akin to what Erik was used to, so it had no effect on him whatsoever; and he knew by the livid, reddish tinge to his skin, that Erik's blasé attitude was not at all what he has expected.

Without further ado, Dale turned and walked away; he pulled himself up into his pick-up and sped down the driveway - spewing rocks and debris everywhere on his way.

"I've never seen him like that before..." Randi admitted, a concerned frown cloaking her features, "...he's always been so cordial and helpful. We were in school together, and even when he worked here during the summers back then, he was always polite."

There it was; the history he had sensed. Something was crawling up Erik's spine...a discerning nerve of some kind, he assumed. There were many things about Golden Boy that disturbed him, not the least of which was the way he looked at Randi.

He looked down at her, and wrapped his arm around her shoulder, "Forgive me, where a beautiful woman is concerned, men tend to get a tad possessive." She only smiled at that and Erik continued, "We are going to invest the money and make this a gated and patrolled area, I will not have threats like that coming within a thousand feet of you or Cody...I will not have it."

The protective pitch in his voice made Randi tingle from head to toe...no man had ever been protective of her...possessive, yes...but not protective. She cradled into him, loving the feel of his strong arms as they sheltered her against his hard body. With the greatest of ease, she pulled his lips to meet hers in a searing kiss of passion. He ignited fires in her that she had never known; an inferno which licked the passion within her and sent it spreading through her body in vigorous, tantalizing flames.

Opening to her bold claim, Erik swept his tongue into her mouth and tangled with hers. She tasted of promise and hope...two things with which Erik had no experience, but had longed for. She fit perfectly against him, not having to stand on her toes to reach him, but clamping to his frame as if fashioned especially for him. His hands ached to explore the curves that rode his hardness, but he chose to wrap them around her waist and push into her with tender pressure; a move that only served to deepen his powerful arousal.

Pulling from her, Erik had to stop the drugging kisses before he further embarrassed himself. She moaned into his mouth as he gave her one last passionate sweep with his tongue before putting her a good foot from him.

Smiling, they both said at the same time...

"I need to ask you something."

TBC


	20. Chapter 20

Well, the house sits on our property, but getting to actually move into it is turning into a nightmare...please pray for my patience and that of my husband; we desperately need it.

Another chapter for you...enjoy.

CHAPTER 20

"Go ahead...what were you going to ask me?" Unable to read her thoughts by scanning her features, Erik trembled inside; his old demons surfaced, making him believe she intended to ask him to leave.

They had walked to the far end of the porch and sat down on the large swing. Erik looped his arm around her shoulders, cradling her against him in a protective, masculine manner. The thumb on his right hand caressed her right cheek with intimate familiarity; he had never thought to enjoy such small and yet significant human exchanges...it was still a wonder to him.

He posed the question without showing the trepidation in his stomach. Old habits died hard, and he wanted to crawl back under the rock he was sure he was born under to avoid the hurt he was prepared to feel.

The voices in his head had him convinced that she was only playing him for the fool; allowing him to kiss her - even passionately - just so she would have some sort of leverage against him. However, the genuine passion he felt as she yielded to the caress of his lips and tongue was no act...she did not falsify the acceleration of her heartbeat, or the fire in her eyes; he was no expert on passion, but he was an expert on acting.

"I have given this much thought..." Randi began, her hands shaking profusely, "...and no matter how I look at it, I come up with the same solution."

Erik could see the indecision in her features; whatever it was, she was not sure how he would react...and that made him even more nervous.

"I guess the best way to do it is to just ask...Erik..." she hesitated.

"I will not be upset, Miranda...I have been asked to leave before." Erik offered, the pain seeping through into each syllable and breaking the last shards of his heart.

The obscurity of his confession gave her pause, and Randi gave him the oddest look before shaking her head and chuckling. Erik frowned, but allowed her to finish.

"I would never ask you to leave...I don't even want to think about what my life was before you came into it - so leaving is out of the question..." she reached over and pulled Erik's other hand over into her lap and gently massaged the long, masculine fingers. "...I was wondering if you would marry me?"

Caught completely off guard, Erik just stared at her. He was questioning his sanity at hearing what he thought he heard, but at the same time he was reading the beseeching hopefullness banked in her features. Had she truly just asked him what he thought she had asked him?

"What did you say...it sounded like you asked me to marry you?"

The look on his face was a thing of beauty. He was stunned, to say the least...at a complete loss for words. He looked at her as though he did not understand any of the words that were coming out of her mouth...it was almost comical.

Randi shook her head to affirm his suspicions, and then flashed him a please-say-yes-before-you-break-my-heart kind of look.

"You want _me_ to marry _you_?" He repeated it again, just to make sure he understood.

"Yes." Randi answered. "I mean...it benefits us all; I get to keep the ranch and have you to help me do so...Cody gets a male figure in his life - someone he enjoys being around and spending time with, and you will get American citizenship and an identity...it's a win-win situation."

When she put it that way...it sounded like a business arrangement. Maybe that was what she wanted. Erik painted many scenarios in his mind; each one ended up with him wrapped around her, her body moving against his, and their hearts beating like heavy drums as they made passionate love.

But maybe that was just him...maybe all she wanted was what they had.

He was getting so much more out of it than what she suggested...that was for sure. He was getting a family - two people who would rely on him for support and encouragement; two people he could call his family and perhaps even allow himself to love them openly.

All she was getting was him...she was sure getting robbed on this deal.

"Where I come from, the gentleman asks the lady that question." Erik teased, trying to lift the sadness that had crept into his heart.

"Here too...but you seem very reserved and old-fashioned." She teased back with a smile. "Not that that's a bad thing...I just figured I would be waiting a while for you to ask me."

"Touché." Erik responded, countering her smile with a stunning one of his own.

She giggled, warming Erik's heart clean through to the frigid parts that had refused to thaw since Christine had turned them to ice.

"Is that a 'yes'?" Randi proposed...again.

He could not help it, he bent forward slightly, bringing their lips together in a tender kiss that promised much more. It was a breaths whisper between them, but they both felt the jolt of it down to their bones.

"Yes, sweet Miranda...I will marry you."

۞۞۞۞

Before Cody was due home, they sat cuddled together on the couch enjoying a relaxing evening in each others arms. Erik felt her breathing deepen, and knew she was finally drifting to sleep after having a very harrowing day.

She had asked him to marry her...what a strange thing. He could not wrap his head around the reasons...although he supposed they all made sense; but Erik had not spoken any words to her about his true feelings. Not one.

He wondered if she could deduce the love he admitted to having - at least to himself - by the way he kissed her; he thought perhaps she could. Part of him wanted to tell her he loved her - regardless of the cost - but the practical side of him knew the cost was staggering.

So much had happened in the month he had been here...so much more than he would have ever imagined. Casper would have been astounded by this world...and Erik found that when he looked at it from a scientist's point of view, it was absolutely astonishing. Ever day there was something that caught his eye and riveted his attention.

He found airplanes to be particularly fascinating, and he would get his chance to fly on one next week...for they were to be married in France. She had jumped at the chance to go with him, and knew that Cody would want to go too. He would have a chance to locate the rest of his treasures and he and his family would be financially secure.

Thanks to the wonderful tool of the internet, he had already secured a buyer for his coins and the gold bars; they were to meet in Paris next Friday, the day before he and Randi were to be married.

Randi stirred in his arms and Erik gently cupped her face in his hand, turning her head towards him. It was quite amazing how Christine's face had faded in his mind - replaced by visions of a fiery redhead with a spirit to match.

He had foolishly thought that no woman would ever compare to Christine in beauty and poise, but Randi simply made her disappear. Erik realized that he had been focused on Christine's musical abilities and what he could make her into, more so than he was her physical attributes. Randi's beauty - inside and outside - surpassed Christine; in all fairness, Erik had to admit that Christine was quite young and unprepared for the sort of commitment Erik would have demanded of her.

But Randi had faced commitment head on - asking him to marry her within a month of having meant him; it was mind boggling!!

"What time is it?" She murmured, pressing her warm lips against his neck and nuzzling.

He felt the stirrings of intense passion with the simple touch; she loved to cuddle with him and kiss him; but Erik was not sure how much she wanted or how far she was willing to go when they were married. He prayed - for the sake of his aching body - that she wanted him in all ways, but he would be patient and find out.

"9:23." Erik whispered into her hair. "Cody will be home in a few minutes, it is time for me to go."

She growled her displeasure with the idea of letting him go, but in the end she stood up and stretched elegantly while Erik headed for the door. He did not want anyone seeing him leave the house at this time of night...no need to spark rumors and possibly damage Randi's reputation.

As Erik reluctantly walked out into the night air, Randi pulled him in for another thorough kiss before contentedly watching his shapely backside head down the path toward his house. She watched him until she could see him walk in the front door, and then turned to greet the car that was driving up the driveway.

۞۞۞۞

Erik had an uncanny sense of his surroundings, he always had; but he also had major issues with trust. All of this came into play as he stepped into his home. It wasn't that there were things out of place...it was more like the air carried on it the scent of intrusion.

After years of not trusting anyone and having to rely only on his wit and warrior's instinct to survive; Erik easily sensed when things weren't right. Everyone had a distinct smell that lingered after they left...there had been someone in his house. It wasn't Randi, Cody, or Heidi - he was familiar with them; this was someone, or more than one someone, with whom he had had little to no association.

He checked all the windows and doors, but saw no signs of forced entry, and nothing was taken. There was nothing to take to the police except his intuitions, and that would get him nowhere.

Another search of the house rendered no new evidence, so Erik tried to dismiss his gut feeling and get ready for bed. He supposed it was his own insecurities and skeptic nature that caused him to inquire about the installation of a gated entrance and a high, monitored fence around the property.

Lying in the bed, Erik could not keep his mind off Randi and the beguiling way she had captured his heart. Cynic that he was, Erik had renounced love and any hold it claimed to have on him long ago...it was not meant for him. But she had claimed his heart and awakened his body with one luring glance of her exquisite eyes.

His hand swept down his chest, skimming over his budded nipples; who knew they were so sensitive to touch? He was achingly hard and had been for the greater part of the day; not even a cool shower before going to bed had eased the ardent discomfort. It was the strangest thing, in the four weeks he had known Randi, he had spent many a night releasing the sexual frustration her presence caused within him; it was something he had seldom engaged in during the previous years.

Hot and ready to explode, Erik indulged once again; his starving body soaking up the lavish attention he paid it. He did not expect anything more physical than passionate kisses out of his marriage to Randi, but a man could wish...that was all he was saying.

TBC


	21. Chapter 21

Update: We did get financed, now it's just a matter of paperwork! Praise the Lord!! My husband and I have had nowhere else to sleep, so we have been sleeping in the house (we have keys to the basement sliding door that match the patio door into the house). But I can't wait until we can have our furniture delivered and really set up house!!

Okay, this is the next one. I have completed this story...ten more chapters to go. I am sorry if it has seemed a bit rushed, with all that has been going on in my life, I am surprised it's even making any sense.

Thanks for humoring me.

CHAPTER 21

The next couple of days flew by; Erik had few chances to breathe, let alone spend any quality time with Randi or Cody. He wanted to make sure that all things that needed repair were completed before they went to France; nothing was to be left to chance.

By the end of day three, Erik was literally exhausted. He wanted nothing more than to fall into bed and sleep straight through until they left for France; but he knew that was not possible, so he ate a quiet dinner with Randi and Cody.

"Are you alright with your sister and I getting married?" Erik asked Cody, wanting to make sure the boy had no misgivings about the idea.

Cody shrugged his shoulders and spooned more ice cream into his mouth. There were few things about marriage that he understood, and even less about romance; all he knew for sure was that when his sister was with Erik, she was happy and smiling all the time...that was good enough for him.

"You make her happy...so it's all good."

Erik chuckled and shook his head. He would never get used the way they talked in this age. Some of the terms and words were comical and Erik found himself actually interested in what the words meant. Languages had always been an interest of his and he tended to learn them rather quickly.

He had started to teach Randi Spanish and French, hoping she would catch on quickly; but he soon learned that languages were not her strong point. She was much better with history and literature.

With every kiss they shared, Erik sensed that Randi desired him as much as he did her...although he found that concept unlikely. All the signs were there; the dilated pupils, the accelerated breathing and increased heart rate; the drugging sweep of her lashes over her salacious eyes when she looked at him...could he be imagining it all? Knowing him, he probably was...maybe...

He shook his head violently to remove the thoughts that were threatening to turn his mind to mush. Cody was finishing his bowl of strawberry ice cream and Randi was blissfully unaware of the scandalous thoughts that Erik was entertaining on her behalf.

She cleared the table and began loading the dish washer, thinking that Erik had moved into the living room with Cody. It was only a few moments after Cody left that she felt Erik's arm circle her at the waist and his other hand sweep the hair from her shoulder. His warm, heavenly lips moved over the eagerly reactive flesh of her shoulder; leaving a trail of sweet shivers shooting through her.

She leaned back into him, feeling protected and beautiful as he continued to arouse her with only his lips. He found the stimulating curve of her neck and glided the tip of his tongue over it before pulling her earlobe between his teeth and nibbling playfully. His hands found the curve of her hips and gently but decisively pulled the bottom part of her body against his...firmly pressing his arousal against her and growling deep in his chest at the exquisite sensations it caused.

One final taste of her delectable neck, and Erik eased away from her; not caring any more if she knew the effect she had on him.

"The things you do to me..." his voice was husky and full of need. His eyes had been closed when he spoke; now they opened, and softly caressed her face, "...does it frighten you...to know that I desire you as I do?"

The first part of her answer was another penetrating kiss, feverishly feeding off him as though she were starved for the taste of him. She had managed back him against the kitchen table and he sat on the corner of it, his legs firmly planted on the floor with her wedged between them. Her hands splayed through the dark velvet of his hair, gently holding his mouth to hers as she ravished him.

"The only thing that frightens me is the possibility that you will tire of me and look elsewhere for love."

She said that to him as she ran her fingers gently over the scar that marred his timelessly handsome face; the thought of such a thing was ludicrous in Erik's mind, but he could sense she honestly feared it.

Gently cupping her cheek in his palm, he looked deep into her longing eyes, "How could I ever tire of you when every moment is like spring; new colors, new sensations...new life."

He pulled her against him and sang softly into her ear...

_"I just want to see when you're all alone..._

_I just want to catch you if I can._

_I just want to be there when the morning light explodes..._

_On your face it radiates;_

_I love you 'til the end._

_I just want to tell you nothing you don't want to hear._

_All I want is for you to say_

_'Why don't you just take me where I've never been before?'_

_I know you want to hear me catch my breath..._

_I love you 'til the end. _

_I love you 'til the end."_

He turned her in his arms and slowly glided over the kitchen floor with her in his arms, dancing barefooted across the tiles while holding her eyes to his with the beauty of his words. She was captivated by the sensual baritone he used to slowly seduce her; she knew he could sing, but this was much more than just singing, this was magic.

_"I just want to be there when we're caught in the rain._

_I just want to see you laugh, not cry._

_I just want to feel you when the night puts on its cloak._

_I'm lost for ways to tell you..._

_I love you 'til the end._

_I love you 'til the end._

_I love you 'til the end."_

He gently lifted her into his arms, holding her above him and slowly easing her down the hard surface of his chest before pressing her curves to him once again. A single tear of joy crept down her angelic face; Erik caught it on the tip of his finger and kissed it away - then kissed her lips tenderly.

"I love you, Miranda Willows...although the very thought of ever loving again terrified me just weeks ago...I cannot bear to think of a future with you not in it."

One tear turned to many tears as his confession of love fully enveloped her. One month - that was all she had known him - twenty-six years she had trudged through life; mindlessly searching for no one in particular - thinking that true love was something only fairy tales wrote about. And here he was...the hero of her own story, confessing his love for her...how had she been so blessed?

Guilt washed over her as she confronted her animosity toward her Heavenly Father...she knew that deep down she had blamed Him for taking her parents from her; for causing the ranch to fail, and for the money problems that trailed behind that failure. She had avoided His still, small voice every time He had gently reminded her that He was still God - the same in the valley as on the mountain top; it was she who had moved away from Him - not vice versa.

"I love you, too...so very, very much, Erik." Smiling, she wiped the tears away and basked in the shocked look of pure joy she saw on his face...joy that her love had put there.

۞۞۞۞

The weight of the world could have been on his shoulders that night and Erik would not have felt it...he was soaring above the clouds as close to heaven as he had ever been.

A woman had actually admitted to loving him! His first inclination was to share the incredible news with Bernadette; and the fact that she had been dead for close to a hundred years left his heart hallow. She would have been ecstatic and nothing would have seemed as wonderful to her.

What he had felt for Christine paled in comparison to what he felt for Randi. How could he have ever thought he would never love again, when he really had no concept of what love was until Randi found him? Truth be told, his love for Randi made his feelings for Christine seem petty and immature.

Looking back on it, Erik had tried to force the issue with Christine - not wanting to spend his life alone - and she had resisted him on a romantic level. _Smart girl_, Erik thought, _she knew it was not the right thing to do and followed her heart...I cannot fault her for that_. Perhaps she had not found him repulsive after all, but had only seen him as a teacher or a big brother perhaps.

As his timeline went, only three years had passed since Christine had left him broken hearted, but he had grown a century's worth of wisdom in those years. He now realized that he had been hasty in his decision to leave France and all that he had known, but deep in his heart he knew it was Divine intervention...for his heart had always resided here, in 2007.

He turned out the light in the bathroom and caught movement out of the corner of his eye. In a fair fight, Erik would have easily won, but the flash of a bullet leaving the chamber was more than he could ward off with the sheer will of his mind or the strength of his body.

All he could make out as his life blood began flowing out of the wound in his stomach was a shadowed image that seemed oddly familiar in the way it moved. There was no doubt that the image was a man and he moved quickly and without hesitation; shuffling items here and there without care of the man who lay bleeding to death on the floor beside the bathroom door.

Holding on to what was left of his conscious thought, Erik was able to make out parts of the man's profile, although it was shadowed. He was large, but not as large as Erik...and strongly built. In an instant, he turned to Erik and doused him in some foul smelling liquid; a decidedly malevolent laugh filling the room as he did so.

"I saw how you looked at her...the possessive glint in your eyes..." Erik could feel his life slipping away with every beat of his heart, but he was determined to know the identity of his murderer. Although the voice was laced with malice and disdain, he knew it... "...Chief will have her to himself and posses all that she calls dear."

The figure crouched beside Erik with a sneer of delight shrouded in a hazy but familiar face, "Hidden treasure, my man, that's what this is all about...and I'm going to be a king among men when Chief shares the wealth that is sure to come out of it." An evil laugh filled Erik's ears as the man stood up once again, "Don't worry about Randi...we'll take good care of her...and that little brother of hers."

Erik pooled all his resources and used the knowledge that he had gained from the gypsies. Sometimes it had been a blessing to be considered ignorant...they let their secrets slip out on many occasions...thinking Erik was as brainless as he was ugly. Shutting out all distractions, including the familiar voice that continued to belittle and degrade him, Erik slowed his heartbeat and gained a slippery cord of control over his body's diminishing life force. His murderer, thinking him dead already, abandoned his efforts and exited the room.

The last conscious thing that filtered through Erik's defenses was a collage of ghastly smells bombarding his senses...smells that should not have been in his home...smells that undoubtedly meant he was trapped and death might finally be coming to claim him.

۞۞۞۞

"We love each other, Heidi...he said he loves me!"

"Oh Randi...I'm so happy for you. After all the scumbags we have put with and the lowlife's that frequent the area...I'm so glad you found a good man." Heidi praised, "And a foreign one with an accent and everything...gorgeous...smart...rich..."

Randi heard her sigh on the other end and smiled broadly, she was having a hard time believing it all herself. The minute she knew Erik had returned to his house, she was on the phone to Heidi who was spending every moment at the hospital, so Randi knew how important it was to keep her mind on other things.

"We will be flying to Paris in a few days and getting married...he has business there."

When the line was dead silent, Randi remembered that she had not told Heidi about the marriage proposal; a slight oversight on Randi's part.

"Married...you didn't tell me he asked you to marry him!"

"Well...actually...I asked him."

Heidi laughed - full and hearty - for perhaps the first time in days. "Is that right...you said you would and you did...where is my shy little Randi who couldn't even ask Michael Jessup to our fifth grade dance without throwing up all over her pretty pink pumps?" She paused for effect - hearing Randi giggling lightly on the other end of the phone, "She's all grown up and asking a man to marry her...I think I'm having a proud moment."

Randi giggled at her friends antics, surprising herself with her own boldness where Erik was concerned. But there was something on the inside, deep down, that knew that if she didn't claim him now...there would be no claiming later; he was meant to be hers.

"I don't know, Heidi...it's like destiny or something..." Randi added, "...and I don't even know if I believe in destiny, but..."

"You don't have to explain it to me, Randi..." Heidi assured her, "...love can't be explained away or even discussed on a logical level...it just is."

When had Heidi become so wise?

"Thanks for being there for me, Heidi...I had to share with someone."

"I'm there for ya, girlfriend...always...get a good nights rest and hug that gorgeous man of yours for me."

"Will do...good night."

Randi glanced at the clock on the mantel and realized she had been talking to Heidi for over an hour. It had taken her a while to gather the nerve to tell Heidi about the, "I love you's", let alone tell her about the wedding; but once she had, it had been a relief to share it with someone.

Unable to wind down enough to tired, Randi spent the next hour or so cleaning up the house and walking around on cloud nine. Part of her was very sad that her parents weren't going to be there to watch her become Erik's wife...but she knew they would have been happy for her; Erik was everything they had ever wanted for her.

Somewhere between one and two in the morning, Randi finally crept down the hallway, trying not to disturb Cody. She cracked his door, just checking on him, and was pleased to see that he had quietly fallen to sleep. Erik had actually found the time in his busy day to toss the baseball with Cody...something that Randi found amusing; for all of his wonderful traits, Erik could not catch or throw a baseball - she supposed it was because he was European - but Cody glowed under the attention and Erik didn't seem to mind taking instructions from a twelve-year-old.

There were still many things she didn't know about Erik; the sadness that seemed to always be a part of him and lived undisturbed in the green of his eyes was something that Randi wanted to remove...but she didn't know how. She had also heard him singing the other day...by accident. She had been looking for him for a while, and when she found him, he was with the horses. He had developed a closeness with Legolas that she had never thought he would- and it made her very happy...anyway, he stood there working the horses coat with a brush and lovingly caressing the animals neck, singing softly but with such agonizing beauty that Randi felt tears pricking her eyes. She had to hear him again...and soon. Somehow, she knew his singing and the sadness in his eyes were linked...whether it was a terrible and tragic link or one that left a dull ache in him every time he faced it, she did not know; but she needed to find out.

She gently closed Cody's door and slipped into her bedroom. There was a strange glow outside her window, one she could see easily even with the shades closed most of the way. She made her way toward it, peeking through the blinds to see what was causing it.

The sight that captured her eyes knocked the breath right out of her, and terror filled her heart...

...all she could do was scream.

TBC


	22. Chapter 22

Here ya go...I know we are in some dark times for our hero and heroine, but things will get better...after all, it's me who's writing it!!

iluvmyphantom has drawn some wonderful pictures for my story, "Show Me the Way to Love", I will be putting the URLs in my profile, so check 'em out!!

Enjoy.

CHAPTER 22

Sparks stood there, the flames dancing in his eyes as he watched his handiwork. It was a beautiful thing...fire. He had used it on many occasions - to the bosses bidding - but never had he been told to use it when there were people involved. It drew too much attention and the authorities were always snooping around when they weren't invited.

He had scoped the house out a couple of days ago...taken his time and really memorized the layout. The lone occupant had come and gone all the time; biding his time between the main house - making time with the lovely Randi - and doing his share of the ranch's many chores.

Sparks curled his lip in disgust; it was revolting the way the scarred Frenchman sniffed around her like a dog in heat. In his sick mind, Randi already belonged to his boss and no one else had a reason to be around her; to touch her; to look at her with interest.

His interest returned to the building fire before him. _It was so easy_, he thought...feeling the thrill of accomplishment crawl up his spine. The menacing smile that curved his lips could have chilled the shooting flames had he been close enough to touch them. _I will teach that Frenchie a lesson... _he started pacing back and forth as the flames increased in size and heat _...he thinks he can have Randi and everything that comes with her._

This was his chance to prove himself...to prove his quality. If he could accomplish this task and report back to Chief with successful results, he would be that much closer to attaining all that he wanted in life...all that he had killed for.

_They thought I wouldn't do it..._Sparks thought bitterly. _I'll show Chief that I'm no coward...that I'm worthy of his trust._

There was no remorse cluttering his twisted thoughts; no sudden case of guilt that would make him doubt his decisions. All that played in Sparks' mind at that moment was sick joy...the joy of watching his "creation" slowly devour the house before him.

Unable to stay away, Sparks crept closer to the large window that would lend him a view of his victim. Perhaps he should have somehow hauled his dead body to the bed, making it look more accidental; but what did it matter...there wouldn't be a body to examine in a little while anyway.

The stove was old and the wires were slightly exposed, so Sparks had manipulated them to cause a short...which would cause a spark...and then...curtains for Frenchie; even if he somehow managed to survive the belly wound, he couldn't escape the fire.

_What a rush!! _He thought, a thrill of exhilaration running through him as he continued to watch the fire build in size; slowly making its way toward the bedroom. With one last admiring glance at his handiwork, Sparks slipped into the darkness and disappeared into the woods.

۞۞۞۞

Locking all things out of her mind except the blinding need to get to Erik, Randi tore through the front door as she dialed 911 on her cell phone. Hysteria was only moments away as she drew closer and closer to the fire; the dispatch operator tried to keep her calm as she assured her that the engines were already on their way.

"You don't understand...he's in there...Erik...he's in the house!"

"Ma'am, don't approach the house...they'll be there any minute now."

It was evident that Randi was running for the house as she was on the phone; the rampant fear flooding her voice left little doubt to that fact. The fire had already consumed the east side of the house and was moving toward the west in a rhythmic and organized way - as though it was following a predetermined path.

Oblivious to everything going on around her, Randi fought the arms that came around her to pull her from the heat. The fireman had to physically lift her into his arms to ensure that she would not run headlong into the flames to find the man whose name she kept screaming above the noise and confusion.

"Ma'am...we'll get him..." he shook her to bring her out of her hysterical mindset and held her gaze as he assured her in all sincerity that they would not abandon him to the fire, "...let us do our job."

Cody was at her side in an instant, wrapping his arms around her waist and bravely trying to push away the tears she could see swimming in his eyes. It wasn't until that moment that she realized how much Erik had come to mean to her little brother...he loved him like a big brother.

Just the other day she had watched Erik patiently teach Cody how to tie a lasso, and then he had given him lessons on roping; they had used a 50 gallon drum for the target and Cody had been getting pretty good at it. Erik had ruffled the boy's hair and given him words of encouragement; Cody had walked away from that experience with a huge grin on his face and Erik in his heart.

She'll knelt down and drew him into her arms, as much for her benefit as his, "They'll save him...Cody...we have to trust that they will."

The firemen had been able to enter the house from the west side and completely saturate that part of the house to prevent the fire from spreading. They worked their way through to the other side; two of them quickly heading for the bedroom where they assumed the victim was trapped or injured.

Time seemed to stand still for everyone on the scene; the sky glowed with the eerie orange hue that was being let off from the fire, the demanding shouts of the fire chief filled the air as he instructed his men in their tremendous feat of heroism - and Randi stood frozen to the ground as the world crumbled around her. It felt like a horrible scene from a Hollywood movie; like she was looking down on the whole thing from atop a giant green screen as she eagerly awaited the director to shout, "That's a wrap", and all would return to normal...

...but it never happened.

۞۞۞۞

Each one had their own story to tell...their own pain to deal with; but all that Randi cared about was Erik. They had pulled him from the burning building, and before she even had a chance to catch a glimpse of him, he was loaded into the back of the LifeFlight helicopter and gone before she could breathe.

On the surface, at first glance, it was your typical emergency room waiting area; bland décor coupled with dour faces made it a killjoy experience for those who just dropped in for a stuffed up nose or a scraped knee.

But Randi saw much, much more. She saw the men and women into whose hands she had placed her beloved; the man who had conquered her heart without brandishing a weapon of any sort. He had taken possession of her every breath and without him she would cease to exist... of this, she was certain.

She found herself praying interminably, begging and pleading for the news to be good. Numerous nurses and doctors walked in and out of the place...but none of them paid her any mind. Not one came and assured her that Erik was fine; that he was sitting up in bed and asking for her.

It was there - in the chaotic to and fro of the ER - that Randi began to question the events of the night. She hadn't had the time or the inclination to debate the probabilities or weigh the evidence - she just wanted the truth. The arson specialists had been on the scene immediately, questioning her and Cody, and then doing their routine operative investigation.

Despite being a victim, she and Cody were now put on the list of suspects...sometimes the process of the law seemed to favor the criminal rather than the victim; and Randi admitted that it made her angry.

Impatiently, Randi once again approached the ER registration clerk, "Can you please give me some sort of update on Erik Marchand...he was brought in by ambulance forty-five minutes ago."

Surprisingly, the clerk seemed genuinely interested in Randi's needs.

"Is he a relative of yours?" She asked, keying information into the computer as she spoke.

"He's my fiancé." Randi stated, almost bursting into tears as she thought about him.

She keyed a few more notes into the system and then gave Randi an update.

"He is currently in the OR...that is all that I can tell you right now."

It was enough for now...at least he was alive.

"When she is able, the doctor will speak with you."

Randi thanked the woman and sat back down, pulling Cody against her so that he could sleep.

"Erik will be okay...right?" He asked, innocently thinking that whatever she said was the law.

"I don't know Cody...all we can do is pray."

He nodded tiredly and curled up next to her; she knew by the subtle movement of his lips that he was praying fervently. She rested her head atop his and joined in, hoping and praying that when she opened her eyes again...all would be as it should be...and Erik would be out of the woods.

It was well over five hours later when Randi lifted her sleep deprived eyes and saw a middle-aged woman with a severe hairstyle, bloodshot eyes, and full lips walking toward her. Something between relief and anxiety filled her insides as the woman sat down beside her, measuring her with stern appraisal before speaking.

"Are you Miss Miranda Willows?"

Randi gave one nod of her head and stood up; fearing her ability to speak would fail her. She took the woman's extended hand and tried to smile.

"I'm Doctor Joanne Masterson, Chief of Surgery here at Denver County General Hospital. You are Erik Marchand's fiancé, is that correct?" Another nod of her head, "I apologize for the delay...Mr. Marchand was presented to us with a gunshot wound to his abdomen which resulted in severe blood loss. He had minor smoke inhalation, so we focused mainly on the gunshot."

_Shot...by whom and why?_ Randi asked herself, shock evident in every cell of her body. He was essentially a stranger to the area with no ties or connections to anyone; he seldom left the ranch, and when he did, they were together.

"Is he okay?" she asked, dreading the answer. There were tears running unencumbered down her cheeks and she was trembling from head to toe...she didn't even notice any of this - her thoughts focused solely on Erik.

Doctor Masterson nodded her head quickly and lowered Randi into a chair, "He is stable and we have given him a great deal of blood; infection is our greatest concern right now."

Randi breathed a little easier once she knew that he was still alive and had been stabilized; she wasn't willing to think much past that point - barely holding on to the frayed and tattered edges of her nerves.

TBC


	23. Chapter 23

Sorry it took so long to post this one...I beg your forgiveness. We still haven't closed on our house, but we are inching our way forward. It should be some time next week. Thanks for all your prayers and words of encouragement.

Well...let's get going, shall we.

CHAPTER 23

They curled around him, sucking the hope away that had begun to take over the dark places in his soul; prowling and creeping through the crevices of his mind as though they had found their home there. The skulking, red-eyed demons that had always found their way into his dreams were once again whirling around his legs, waiting for the moment when they could tear him from the life he had begun to treasure and yank him, gnashing teeth and all, down to the fathomless abyss.

_Give us what we want...you know you aren't worthy of any of this. _The demon hissed, doing what it did best...lying.

Wars weren't just fought on solid ground with weapons branded by mankind's ageless heroes and warriors; for many, the war was fought within the crumbling walls of their mind. Weapons were wielded by the unseen enemies that had plagued humankind since the dawn of time...Doubt, Anger, Jealousy, Misery, Pain, and worst of all, Death; claiming what wasn't theirs to begin with and greedily giving only hopelessness back.

_You asked for us...seeking the peace you think you will find in our arms; come to us now and claim your reward. You can't hide from us, Erik Marchand, we have eyes everywhere._

One single voice...that was all there was...but within that voice was the whispers of millions. The malignant whispers held all the regret of the cursed souls that had fallen victim to its sickening sweet lies over the ages; trapping them forever within its vice-like grip of endless suffering. They were practically salacious in their determination to gain another casualty...the tones undulating sensually...lulling and seducing with their husky need.

Sensing the desperation and agony that had once held such a strong place within this person, the demons purred in satisfaction; they anticipated another chance to gorge on the delectable soul of a destroyed human...wickedly winding their claw-like fingers together in eagerness.

To his complete and utter horror, Erik watched the entire scene play out before him...his mind locked within the sick, demented story that seemed so real and yet completely fabricated. It was his soul they waited to stake some sort of claim upon...his soul they wished to drag unrelentingly down to the depths of hell and torture for eternity.

He was better than this...he had finally achieved something in his life...the love of a woman who saw him for the man he was and not the monster that circumstances had branded him. Finally, when faced with the demons he had fought all his life, Erik felt that he had a right to fight for his right to live...

...and fight he did.

۞۞۞۞

Forty-eight hours...that was the magic number; if he made it past the first forty-eight hours than he would have a better chance of surviving the entire ordeal. Randi stood vigil over his bedside, barely taking time to eat or sleep. Cody had been determined to stay by her side, and since Heidi was having her own problems, Randi had relented. She took him to school in the morning and picked him up in the afternoon; together, they guarded him.

His vital signs had remained normal, and no elevated white blood cells could be found, so infection had been warded off - probably by the continuous prayers that Randi kept chanting aloud in the moments when she could bare the heaviness of the threatening despair no more.

The nurse entered the room to once again take his vital signs...he was in a medically induced coma, so everything had to remain unchanged for a complete forty-eight hours before they would gradually start waking him. She did her duty without pause, nodded her head in Randi's direction, and then exited as quickly and quietly as she had entered.

Alone with him at last, Randi watched his chest move up and down with a steady, trustful rhythm that made her eyes close in thanks. He was subdued by the drugs, but she sensed there was a battle waging furiously within him. The doctor had said there were a few times over the past several hours that Erik's heart rate had inexplicably accelerated and his blood pressure had raised - both signs that something was going on.

"His mind is very active, even while in this medically induced state." The doctor had stated, after a routine exam. "He can probably hear most of what is going on around him and can feel your presence in the room...just talk to him."

So she had...constantly. She made it known how excited she was about marrying him and the prospect of starting a new life with him by her side. She talked to him of her family and ancestors, finding that it seemed to relax his heart rate to hear her talk; the thought that he reacted in such a way to her, made her smile.

The hours seem to creep by, but Randi found books she could read to him, songs she could sing to him, and jokes she could tell him. Finally, enough time had passed and he had made over the red zone...they slowly reduced his medication and made it to where he could wake on his own. Randi was by his side and although she thought she had no more tears to cry, her eyes still moisted over when she thought of life without him.

She sat down beside him, in the chair she seldom left vacant, and decided to tell him a story...

"I have a really neat story to tell you, Erik...now listen carefully..." she paused to drink in his handsome features before continuing.

"...a psychiatrist was being interviewed by a journalist who asked this question, 'How do you determine if a person is in need of psychiatric help?'

"It was a simple enough question and the doctor just smiled and answered, 'Well, we have a simple test that we perform that gives us some idea as to the soundness of their mind.'

"The journalist was intrigued, 'What sort of test?'

"The doctor leaned forward and his eyes lit up, 'We show them a bathtub full of water, we offer them a bucket, a cup, or a spoon, and we ask them which one they would prefer to use to empty the bathtub.'"

Randi stood up and leaned closer to Erik, feeling the warmth radiating off him, assuring her that he was okay. She caressed the hair on his forehead, wrapping the dark, silky strands around her fingers.

"The journalist clapped his hands and grinned, 'I understand...what an easy test; the sane people would use the bucket. It's much larger and would require less work.'

"Confident in his answer, the journalist sat back with his arms across his chest. He was quite annoyed when the psychiatrist shook his head quietly and responded...no, the sane ones just pull the plug...would you like a corner room with a view?"

Without warning, she felt his hand squeeze hers and a smile appeared on his face; a few seconds later and his eyes opened. Randi gasped sharply and wept with relief when her pale green eyes collided with Erik's stormy, aquamarine eyes.

"Erik..." She breathed, gently wrapping her arms around his bicep in order to remain at his side and as close as she could get without hurting him.

Erik's tired smile lit her world from the inside out; he had made it...he would be okay and they could build their lives together after all.

"That was a cute story you just told?" He kissed the top of her head that rested gently on his chest.

She smiled into this chest - so thankful to God above for the strong heartbeat that ricocheted beneath her cheek. Although there was a definite pallor to his skin and his voice wasn't as strong as she knew it should be, Randi rejoiced at the teasing glint in his beautifully alive eyes. She tried to cast him a punishing look, but she only ended up giggling ridiculously, "You're a scoundrel..." she lifted an eloquent brow and cocked her mouth on one side, "...but I'd have you no other way."

He tried to frown, although the playful glint still sparkled in his eyes, "You wound me, my lady...I am no scoundrel."

She could take no more and gently pulled herself onto the bed beside him, careful not to brush the wound on his stomach. He maneuvered his arms around her - resting her against his long frame and savoring the feel of it. She buried her head in his neck and allowed her pent up emotions to explode against the strength of his pulse.

Her tears coated his skin; sending droves of sensations up his spine. Her long lashes fluttered against him, heightening his awareness of her tenfold and forever branding him as hers. Her shoulders trembled from the force of her weeping - although not a sound escaped her throat.

Erik pulled her closer and ran his lips softly through her hair - whispering across her forehead like a dream. His large, gentle hand ran the length of her hair as it spilled down her back.

"Miranda..." Erik whispered, his heart wrenching at the sound of her tearful relief, "...Sweetheart, I'm fine...don't cry, Love."

His words only made her cling to him even more...but her weeping was still silent.

"I almost lost you." She whispered against his flesh, her lips skimming over him as soft as butterfly wings. "I couldn't bear it if I lost you."

A surge of love filled him at that moment...a surge so strong that Erik could have sworn his heart would burst.

"I lost Mom and Dad...and I loved them dearly; but to lose you would destroy me..." she lifted her head and touched her lips to his - invigorating, consuming. The kiss was one of adoration - as a human might kiss an angel if given the chance. "...I've never loved as I love you. God sent you to me in answer to my prayer...you're a gift from Him."

Moments passed before Erik could compose himself enough to respond; but finally he pressed his lips to her forehead once again, "To have waited my entire life for love to find me and then to finally be blessed with you...I am not worthy." He melded his tears with hers, "I thought I loved once before...but it pales in comparison to what I feel for you."

An hour later when the nurse poked her head in the door, she found them both asleep. Erik still had his arm around her and she was curled against him as if letting him go would surely mean her demise. She let them be, knowing they had both suffered considerably in the past two days...in different ways of course.

The surgery had closed most of the damage done by the bullet, and Erik had always been a quick healer. Two days after being let out of his medically induced coma, Erik went home. Only when he rested his head against a pillow that night, nestled safely in the same house as Randi and Cody, did Erik allow the images that flashed in his mind to come alive.

At some point, during his interactive nightmares, Erik had seen the face and form of his would-be murderer...the image became clear and undistorted as the effects of the medicines that had been pumped into him wore off. It had been mostly dark and Erik had been virtually unconscious by the time he saw his attacker's face; but as it became clearer and the voice melded with it, there was no mistake...

...he knew that face.

TBC


	24. Chapter 24

A step in the right direction for our loving couple...

Enjoy!

CHAPTER 24

Getting Erik home and settled was an interesting task. His wounds were healing as the doctors had said they would, but he was having a difficult time staying in bed as he was instructed. Stubborn and ill-tempered at times, Erik tried to bide his time and keep his mind busy with the lab-top Randi had bought him and the books that were on hand in the Willow family library.

Sleeping was not coming easy to him either, which kept him irritable and tired all the time. His sleep was restless and full of vivid images that kept him up most of the night and the aches and pain from his wounds were enough to make the rest of the night impossible.

The sheriff visited on a couple of occasions over the next few days. His questions were pointed and aggravating, but Erik knew they were necessary. The man was dogmatic in his duty and had a service record that spoke of dedication and determination. He was the kind of man Erik was honored to have on his case and in his life.

Randi seldom left his side, especially when he dreamed. She could not bring herself to be away from him for too long. She feared he would disappear from her life as quickly and mysteriously as he had come into it.

Four days had passed and thankfully he had escaped without any infection setting in or any other setbacks that would land him back in the hospital. His strength was returning and every day he walked more and more. He had walked several times around the house and Cody had accompanied him. They had talked about a lot of things, none of which Randi asked about. Cody needed a man he could confide in and Erik was more than ready to take on the role of big brother or father...whichever Cody felt inclined to call him.

However, as evening approached and Erik's strength subsided; he once again felt the need to rest. Randi wrapped her arm around his waist and gave him her shoulder to lean on as he slowly eased himself down the hallway toward his bed. They were both enjoying the closeness, their bodies eager to touch.

"Why don't you read to me?" He asked as Randi helped him take his shirt off...a task she enjoyed very much.

She ran her hand tenderly over the scar that marred his abdomen, smiling shyly as he sharply sucked his breath in. His heart was beating frantically as she skimmed her fingers up the solid, ripped plane of his stomach and found the sensitive male nipples that enticed her so much. He was magnificently built; masculine and hard in all the right places, a picture of God's handiwork.

"Randi...honey...you can't keep doing that." Erik growled; his tone low and husky; filled with desire.

Her passion-filled sigh sent his senses reeling even higher and his arousal spiked.

"But I like doing this...I feel so empowered by the reaction I get from you." She continued, giving Erik cause to halt her hand with his. "I love how you feel in my hands."

His kiss was ravenous; filled with a torturous tenderness that had Randi turning to mush in his arms. Every deep dive of his tongue was meant by an equal thrust of hers; and before long, they were both breathing hard and fighting urges that were becoming increasingly difficult to suppress.

His large hand cupped the back of her head, holding her to him with a soft strength that was as binding as a rope. She was lying over his chest, avoiding the injury on his abdomen, but easily feeling the untamed beat of his heart and sensing his growing excitement.

A soft knock on the door interrupted their passion-play; and knowing that it was Cody, caused their arousal to subside as though they had been drenched in cold water. He waltzed in, unaware of the sexual tension in the air, and gave them both a hug as he headed to bed.

"He loves you so much...I don't even think he was aware of how much until he was afraid of losing you."

Erik felt a tight lump forming in his chest and found that words were hard to form. He had never felt so loved in his life; had never thought to have children or even be around them.

"He's a good boy..." Erik finally managed to choke out, "...I don't know what kind of brotherly figure I will be; or a fatherly figure for that matter. I have no source of information on how to be these things, having never had either."

She wiped the dark tresses of hair from his forehead, watching as his eyes went to half-mass. He was tired and hurting after the workout he had given his hurt body and Randi knew that he wanted to slip into a quiet and silent sleep; but they both knew it would not happen.

"You're a natural with him, Erik...you needn't worry about being a brother or a father; besides, I intend to have a family with you so, you will be a father in the physical sense as well as the spiritual sense."

That sounded good to him, but the thought terrified him. He had no experience with such things - literally. He hadn't ever considered that he would have such things in his lifetime.

He was so tired, but he heard as Randi picked up the book and began reading. She had picked a modern classic called "North and South"; it was a fascinating tale of America's past and Erik found himself looking forward to the hour or so that Randi would spend reading to him.

As Erik drifted off, Randi closed the book and watched his chest rise and fall. He was at peace for the moment and she needed to find something to occupy her time. She got up from the chair and placed it against the wall; then she leaned over Erik and tenderly kissed his lips.

She had a pile Erik's things that had been rescued from the house before they got burned; a few pieces of clothing and other items. She pulled them out of the bag they had been placed in and immediately smelled smoke; it's nauseous, toxic fumes making her head ache and her lungs convulse.

Before she could relive that night, Randi got a grip on her vivid thoughts and swallowed deeply; leaving the spooky, deadly images behind.

She found the cape he had been wearing the night she found him, and was thankful it had not been consumed by flames. It was an expensive, period piece; beautiful and well tailored. She remembered how he had looked in it, at least for the brief time she had seen him in it; he had looked dark and mysterious - like a handsome stranger that had suddenly taken an interest in her and was determined to have her.

She unfolded it; the voluminous folds covering the surface of the table. Examining the rich material, she happened upon a series of inner pockets that were well hidden. Lovingly running her hands over them, she discovered there was a small book tucked away, deep inside the largest pocket.

She reached in and pulled it out. It was a worn diary of some sort, tied closed by a neat, black, silk ribbon and smelled faintly of...candle wax?...an odd smell indeed, at least in her opinion. She studied it for a few moments, debating with herself about opening it.

Curiosity won out, and Randi unfolded the worn pages...the entries read like letters and Randi found herself lost in the content...

_October 18, 1873_

_My dearest Christine,_

_I have wanted to put these word in a letter many times; thinking that if I could only get you to understand how dreadfully sorry I am for what happened between us, that you might find it in your heart to forgive me._

_Truth be told, I am a fool; a monster who thinks himself human. I covet what I see around me; love and a family, prestige and standing; but I know that I shall never have these things, cursed as I am to walk the earth with this hideous face and rotting soul._

_It did not take long after the events of that night for me to realize that you deserve the happiness and love that Raoul can give you. I have known him a long time, and have envied him his looks and title for as many years as I have known him; but, he is a good man and comes from a good family. I wish you the best that life can offer, I really do._

_Well, the old man is coming back; he really is a good friend, perhaps the best friend I have ever had. I have learned a great deal from him and have found some semblance of peace in my life. He has insisted that I write this letter and send it ever since he found out about your existence and how much you mean to me. Now, if I can just find the courage to say this in a letter and mail it... _

_But I sit here, once again asking your memory to forgive me my foolishness. I am certain that I shall always remain the former Phantom of the Opera, but to you I wish to remain..._

_Just Erik_

A wicked chill ran over Randi's spine and her stomach froze. What was she reading? Was this some kind of sick joke? It was in Erik's handwriting, but the date on the page could not be accurate...it just could not be.

Frantic to read more, she turned a few more pages and read some more...

_November 13, 1873_

_My Angel,_

_Here I go again, writing words that you will most likely never read for I am the worst of cowards; however, I must share my thoughts with someone and sharing them with you seems more sane than just writing the words on a blank sheet of paper._

_Music still runs rampant through my mind. I take the time to jot it down, thinking the pages will share it with the world; but, alas, it never happens. Will anyone ever know my music? I think not._

_Casper has become more dear to me than I ever thought possible; like the father I never had. He has patience and faith; two things I have been sorely lacking in for the greater part of my life. He has forced me to look inside myself, face the beast that lurks there, and force it into submission. Finally, I see within me a man who may not be beyond redemption after all...for my sake, I hope so._

_Casper speaks of things that seem so foreign to me that I fear them; me, the man who always prided himself on having no fears. Time travel, Christine, can you believe it? He has even built a machine that seems to have the ability to thrust a person through time and land them somewhere in the future! How can this be!? Logic and reason must be thrown out and faith must come into play, for I can see no other way for something so fantastic to become reality._

_He calls me now; needing my help, he grows weaker each day it seems. I fear he suffers from some malady that will take him from me. I apply everything that I am to learning what he has hidden in the vast recesses of his brilliant mind; perhaps I can be more to him than just a man who dropped in on him one day and takes up space in his humble home._

_I must go._

_I remain your humble servant,_

_Erik_

Completely taken by what she was reading, Randi flipped through a few more pages...

_July 22, 1874_

_Dearest Angel,_

_You would not believe what has happened since last I wrote you; the time machine - which Casper lovingly called DIANE after his late wife - works! It is unbelievable, I know, but it does._

_While he still lived, Casper and I successfully transported inanimate objects; putting them in the machine and sending them forward in time. They disappeared from the capsule, which leads to the conclusion that they were sent where we intended them to go._

_Next month, after I make a trip to Paris to visit Bernadette one last time, I intend to put the machine to the ultimate test and use myself as a test subject. I have nothing here in this century to live for. I have made a mess of my life; thinking you could love a man with a face as scarred as mine is and a soul that is equally scarred. I have found peace in my flaws and now seek to make a new life for myself._

_I have considered a few different times, but I think I will set it for some time in the early 21st century...2007 I think...I do not know why, but my heart seems more at peace with that date. Perhaps in that century I can make something of myself; if not, death is the final journey I will make. _

_I calm myself with the thought that you might miss me...just a little; although, I am uncertain whether that is the truth. Even if given the chance to see you again; to make amends for my actions, I would not take it. You must be allowed to live the life you have chosen, without any influence from me._

_I suppose that is why you will never know that I write these words._

_Lovingly yours,_

_Erik_

A time machine? 2007? What did it all mean? Randi threw the things that she had read against the barriers her mind had erected...the barriers that told her such things were not possible. But the deepest part of her dared to hope.

Erik...the Phantom of the Opera?

She thought back to the time they had watched the movie with her friends; Erik had been extremely quiet and he had been as white as a sheet throughout the entire thing. Could it be that he WAS the Phantom...?

His clothing at the time she had found him certainly fit that time period; his mannerisms and language; his honor and chivalry...why hadn't she seen it before? His knowledge of music, the majesty and mystery of his voice; the things he had suffered.

Everything fit.

She flipped to the last entry in the journal...

_August 30, 1874_

_I write this not to you, Christine, for I have finally set myself free of the hold you have had over me; but you will always have a place in my heart. _

_No, I write this just to confirm my own sanity. I will be leaving this century in two hours time. I have set the machine to send me to September 30, 2007. Bernadette Giry's birthday is on September 30, so I honor her memory; remembering all that she has done for me in this century...I shall never forget her._

_I know not that this venture will be successful. For once in my life I shall place my life into the hands of the God I have so long denied the existence of; Casper introduced me to Him once again; and for that, I am thankful._

_I do this for Casper; for the friend who took a lost soul and turned him into a man. I miss you my friend._

_I do this for a life that could be mine; will be mine...should this be successful. I fear the unknown, as do most humans, but I cannot remain as I am; there has to be something more. If not, I have lost nothing, and shall finally meet my Maker._

_So, for better or for worse, I do this. Hopefully, should all go well, I will find myself in the year 2007. _

_No matter what, I remain..._

_Erik_

Pieces of hand written music were neatly folded and placed in the back of the journal. Randi gently unfolded them, tears coating her eyes and making it hard to see the what was on them. She thoroughly scanned the notes, hearing the melody in her mind.

Hauntingly beautiful and mournful, Randi could see Erik's brilliance in each note; the shadows that had once filled his eyes danced across the melody with arrogant ease. He had been a dreadfully lonely man when he had landed in her back yard; a man who had faced down and conquered suicidal tendencies; a man who had seen the dark corners of the world and yet, found the beauty within his own soul to write such breath-taking music.

She was in love with the Phantom of the Opera. Her heart accepted the fact of his time travel and history without doubt; taking the leap of faith with no questions asked. She doubted he had ever intended to tell her; but now, she could at last prove her love to him by accepting these things about him.

She took the journal and the music into the conservatory and sat down at the piano.

She played and played; unaware that Erik had awakened.

TBC


	25. Chapter 25

Here's the next one...I seem to have lost many reviewers. I don't know if it is because my updates are few and far between, or because the story is just not interesting anymore.

Life will soon (I hope) return to normal, and this story will be over and my next one is well on its way.

Anyway, here a go.

CHAPTER 25

Not only had he awakened, but he stood in the doorway, listening to her play music he had written...music he had never meant for the world to hear...music he had forgotten about.

He felt his breath leave his body and a strange, sinking sensation settle deep in the pit of his stomach; his journal - the one he had filled with words he had longed to say aloud; words he had never intended to share with anyone - sat in front of her on the piano.

He knew before he asked that she had read it.

At first, his old tendency - to rage first and ask questions later - began to take over; but he quickly squelched it, knowing that had the roles been reversed, he would have done the same thing.

She must have seen him out of the corner of her eye, because she suddenly stopped playing and turned toward him, her eyes filled with a century's worth of questions. He said nothing, but stood there; giving her the chance to confront him with any and all accusations she surely wanted to hurl at him.

But all he saw when her eyes connected with his...was undying love.

"Say something Miranda...anything...or cast me out." His voice was soft and yearning; begging her to understand.

She still did not speak; she stood up and walked straight to him, leaving the music and the journal sitting on the piano. His heart beat with a feral desperation...wanting only to keep her by his side; but he did not reach for her as she came to stand directly in front of him.

Her soft, green eyes caressed his face, taking in every nuance that was exposed to her; the scarred right side that had cost him so much and the masculine beauty of the whole that made him so achingly gorgeous.

"You journeyed a hundred years into the future to find me...I don't think any man on the face of the earth could claim such a romantic story."

She smiled when his eyes relaxed and his shoulders released the tension that had claimed them. He leaned toward her, asking her to accept his embrace; she went to him without pause - wrapping her arms around his slender waist and breathing in the fresh, masculine scent of him.

"I feared it Miranda...I feared telling you who I really am. I did not know how you would take the truth of it. I didn't know if you would accept it or think I had taken leave of my sanity."

She leaned back and stared up at him, "All you had to do was show me that journal and all would have been explained weeks ago."

He rolled his eyes, relaxing more with each passing moment, "I had actually forgotten about the journal and the music...I've been a bit preoccupied."

She giggled, but continued to look deep into his eyes.

"What?" he asked.

"You were really the Phantom of the Opera?"

His smile was strained, but there was light in his eyes, "Yes...but I am not a twisted man with strange desires for a woman half my age...Christine was only a few years younger than me. And the prestige and glamour were not a part of my life like in the movie we watched; but I was very much an outcast."

She frowned at those words, letting him know that he was not an outcast to her...in any way.

"Your music is tremendous, Erik...incredibly sensuous in places and so heart-wrenching in others."

He shrugged his shoulders, not at all convinced that his music was the art she was making it out to be.

"I lived on raw emotion...still do to a certain extent; it showed in my music."

She cupped his scarred cheek and rose to her toes to place a tender kiss to its flawed beauty, "No more secrets, Erik...I want to know all of you."

He sighed deeply and leaned into her touch, "I only pray you do not regret what you learn."

"Never..." she said breathlessly, placing another kiss upon his soft lips, "...now; let's concentrate on getting married."

ѾѾѾ

It had been a difficult task, obtaining traveling papers for Erik. The airlines were of course very reluctant to allow just anyone to fly, and if not for the services of Judge Quincy Lieberman - a lifelong friend of Randi's father - they would never have been able to travel to France, obtain Erik's money, or get married.

Thankfully, Quincy was highly respected and carried clout among the higher ups in the government. He was able to pull some strings, cut through mounds of red tape, and get Erik cleared for travel. His connections were able to produce a travel visa from France, and a French birth certificate - authentic - it seemed France didn't have the same stipulations as the US when it came to proof of identity. After all the smoke had cleared, it only took a week to get all the necessary paperwork in hand.

"Your Honor..." Erik began, after spending the last few days getting to know this man, "...there is something that has been plaguing my mind since Randi and I meant."

Quincy found this young man to be highly intelligent and well versed in many subjects. They had spent hours behind closed doors establishing Erik's background and history, so Quincy felt that he had developed a friendship with the man.

"She explained the process her parents went through...the pain and suffering, and all the symptoms..." Erik noticed a crease that quickly blemished the older man's forehead, "...did anyone ever check for poison?"

The judge frowned and then sat back in his chair, as though he had suddenly discovered something that shocked him.

"I apologize for dropping this on you...but in my younger days, I was extremely volatile and suicidal...I studied alchemy and considered destroying myself in such ways. I am quite familiar with poison and its affect on the body."

Quincy was shocked; a person of Erik's obvious intelligence having come from such a debilitating background was a miracle. The sincerity in his eyes told the story though...there was no doubting what he was saying.

"It would put my mind at ease, and in the long run, it would put Randi's mind at ease if you would consider having the bodies tested for Antimony."

"Antimony?" Quincy repeated as if not believing what he had heard, "Are you sure?"

"I'm not one hundred percent certain, but the symptoms that Randi described to me are almost exactly what would occur if Mr. and Mrs. Willows had been exposed to regular doses of Antimony...what can it hurt to have it looked into?"

That was true...what could it hurt?

"I will even pay for the testing...if that is an issue. I realize it is asking a lot." Quincy heard the determination in Erik's voice and wondered if people everywhere jumped at his command...such was the authoritative tone.

"I will do as you ask...as a request of the family." Erik breathed a quiet, heavy sigh of relief at hearing the judge acquiesce to his request. "If there is poison in their systems, the state of Colorado will pick up the bill; if there isn't, you pay for it...fair enough?"

"Fair enough...and I have one more suggestion; you might request that the doctors caring for Miss Windom's parents do the same...check for poison. It doesn't seem to be Antimony...but they need to test for everything they can."

Harland nodded grimly and shook Erik's hand, strengthening their bond, "Give me a couple of weeks to see what we're dealing with."

Erik agreed, praying they had a couple of weeks.

۞۞۞۞

"You told them everything you remembered about that night...?" Randi asked, cradling Erik's head in her lap. His eyes were closed as she tenderly ran her fingers across his forehead and through his hair...massaging his head.

The police had just left the house, certain that Erik's detailed memories of the events of that night would help them stop an arsonist. The signature of the fire that had almost killed Erik was the same as a rash of brush fires and other fires that were scattered all over the northern part of Colorado, including the fires that had been set on the Willow's Peak Ranch over the past couple of years.

"I told them all that I could...including a name."

Randi turned his head toward her and stared deep into his eyes as he opened them, "Who would do this, Erik...you don't know anyone nor had you done anything to anyone?"

Erik sat up, pulling her into the crook of his arm and resting his chin atop her head, "I have...if you think about it..." Randi meant his gaze and frowned, "...I took you."

Panic filled her eyes as she realized what he was saying, "Someone did this to you because of me?"

Erik hadn't wanted to tell her... but he could not avoid the questions in her eyes or the need in her voice, "I was told that someone named Chief had high hopes for the two of you."

Randi's face scrunched up in an awful scowl, "I don't know anyone by that name..._he_ told you this?"

Erik shrugged his shoulders and tried to smile - despite the heaviness of the topic. "Let's just say that he liked to talk while he watched me bleed to death on the floor."

Tears were something that came easily for Randi now...especially since Erik had become a part of her. She caressed his bottom lip with the pad of her thumb, committing its plush contours to memory. Everything about him was an exciting journey in discovery and sensuality; Randi would never forget how it had felt to almost lose him.

Erik's eyes went to half-mast as her touch soothed the beast that was growling within him...snarling vehemently at its need for blood; the beast that demanded he take matters into his own hands and strangle the life out of the man he knew had done this.

But as much as he wanted to do just that, Erik knew he could not. That same beast had hounded him for years - urging him to take his own life in exchange for something different...not better, just different. Erik had wizened after a couple of botched attempts, realizing that he was as frightened of dying as he had been of living.

All the beast did to him was lie...and Erik had had enough of that to last two lifetimes.

Moving his hand to cup her cheek, Erik plummeted her mouth; feeding the ferocious beast lurking in his darker places with her tangible sweetness. She automatically opened to him, ravenously wrapping her tongue around his as though taking her life's force from him. The kiss was both tender and torturous - soft, pliable lips fusing with wild, hungry tongues - each demanding, each begging.

Erik savored the taste of her on his palate, knowing he had never had anything as ambrosial as she was. Her desire filled moan filled his senses, spiking his arousal to new heights. What a stimulating feeling it was to know that he - the former Phantom of the Opera, Devil's Child, and Opera Ghost - a scarred monster with little to offer the world - could make _this_ woman moan with need of him.

Feeding his lips down the lithe curve of her neck, Erik blended tiny nips of his teeth with the moist tip of his tongue - plucking more insatiable moans from her. He knew he should stop; the incessant strain of his erection was painfully obvious between them, but he felt no shame in allowing her knowledge of his own needs. In fact, he felt strangely empowered...like a man who knew how to please his woman.

He gently pulled from her, ending the kiss with a final sweep of his tongue across her swollen lips. Long, sinewy lashes hovered over seafoam-green eyes; Erik saw desire swirling in their depths and he once again realized that their wedding day could not come fast enough.

"You're trying to distract me...and doing a fine job; but I still want to know who did this to you."

Erik chuckled, his smile easing the pained lines from his face.

"I know you do, Love...but you will know when the news is released and the culprit is locked away..." Erik insisted, fighting the urge to kiss the protruding bottom lip that indicated her disappointment. "...he was just a minion...one of many I suspect."

Randi shivered, remembering the almost loss of Erik, and understood his need for discretion. He didn't want her knowing any more than was necessary - what she didn't know couldn't be held against her - nor bullied out of her.

"I will not let him or anyone else threaten this family ever again." His eyes narrowed and something dark lurked in the luscious green meadow of the iris. Instead of frightening her, it only made Randi feel safer. Erik settled those eyes on her and smiled, lifting the darkness from them, "I am really not as tame as I'd like you to think I am."

"No argument here...just know that I like my men a little on the wild side."

Erik arched a charcoal brow and lifted his lips in a crooked, lop-sided grin.

"Men?" He growled, reaching for her foot and dragging it up to his waist. "There will be no more 'men' in your vocabulary...only one 'man', and that man is me." He proceeded to tickle the bottom of her foot until she was practically kicking him in the chin and then he released her, claiming his wound was hurting him and milking any and all sympathy he could.

Randi rolled her eyes at his whimpering and whining; giggling as he shuffled off toward the bathroom as though the pain was just too much for him to bear. She could see the very tip of the huge smile he was wearing, and thought that perhaps she could pound him into the ground at that point...typical male.TBC


	26. Chapter 26

Short but necessary...we need to set the stage for the chapters to come.

And Praise the Lord!! We signed for our house today!!

Enjoy.

CHAPTER 26

The brutal day was finally moving into the healing night. Lacerations covered just about every inch of his body; not deep or life threatening, but painful and annoying nonetheless. Both eyes were swollen shut after the continuous beating they had taken by unseen fists. The blood that pooled around him had nothing to do with the cuts that covered him, they were minor; it was caused by the missing pinky fingers on each hand.

He knew better than to fail; it had been literally drilled into him ever since he had accepted the "position" that had been offered him. He was a "go to" man for Chief; it was not an easy job, nor an enjoyable job; but it was a lucrative job. The money was great...if you could stay on good terms with the boss.

Unfortunately, Spark's last assignment had gone terribly wrong. It hadn't started out that way; in fact, he would have called it a success the night that he had actually performed it. However, by the next morning - after the smoke had cleared, so to speak - Erik Marchand was still alive and Randi Willows was by his side in the hospital.

But that wasn't the worst of it all...now the police were snooping around and Chief was getting nervous; so nervous in fact, that he had paid a _personal_ visit tonight. Sparks crawled painfully to the bathroom, and hauled himself to his feet; thankful that they had been spared. He was spitting blood, probably from the pounding he had taken in the gut...ruthless and relentless...that was how he would describe it.

The trail of blood on the floor would have to wait until better days, he needed to get patched up and since he knew only one doctor that did house calls, it looked like he would be doing his own doctoring. Looking in the mirror didn't help, as he could not see a thing through the small slits that punctured the swollen flesh.

How had the freak survived? Sparks had no idea; the place had been almost consumed by smoke, if not flames, and any normal person would have succumbed to one of them rather quickly.

The man wasn't normal; that was the only explanation. There was something strange about him, Sparks had noticed that from the beginning - and it had nothing to do with the weird scar on his cheek. His stormy, aquamarine eyes had held many secrets and a soul-searing steadiness that had been very disturbing that night...their eyes had locked on a couple of occasions and Sparks had felt violated in a strange, ethereal way.

Cringing at the pressure, Sparks applied a cold washcloth to his facial injuries, hoping to ward off any further swelling and allow some semblance of relief. He knew his little fingers were missing on both hands, but he still felt them there - helping to hold the cloth to his face. He was a pitiful sight, he knew he was. He stood back from the mirror and felt the cold, hard fingers of fear crawl up his spine...a harsh, defiant laugh came back at him from the mauled features in the mirror and the final words that Chief had spoken echoed in his fevered mind...

"One more screw up Sparks, and you'll be pushing up daisies; snuffing out one more useless life isn't going to make me any difference, I will still sleep at night..." a cold dread had filled the room, leaving no room for excuses or pathetic begging, "...you feelin' me?"

A sharp pain pierced his side and he grunted between clenched teeth, sounding like an animal; oh yeah...he was feelin' it - the pain, the regret, the need to prove himself - when would he ever learn?

A wounded, dismal smile creased his lips; his voice sounded like something from out of a horror film when he finally spoke, "Probably not until I _am _pushing up daisies."

۞۞۞۞

Quincy Lieberman sat at his desk, his fingers meshed together in front of him; a thoughtful, disbelieving scowl locked into his features. The MA's report lay on his desk; exposed and sickeningly poignant. It certainly hadn't been an easy read, nor a pleasant one - but it had been a necessary one.

It had taken less time than he had thought to get results from the tests. Of course, he had made it top priority from a security stand point; but he was still surprised by the speed with which the task had been performed. He leaned forward, the chair rocking as he did so. The sigh that was barely audible wasn't forged from distraught or fear, but resolve. Whoever was behind this was a coward of the worst caliber; preferring to destroy lives from a distance thinking the ugliness of it would not lead back to him.

Erik Marchand had opened his eyes to the kind of insidious behavior that was going on right in his backyard; inhumane and monstrous behavior that warranted an act of deadly force if need be. This sort of thing was indigenous to larger cities, but Denver...? Even with all the evidence boldly staring him in the face, Quincy still could not bring himself to believe it.

Someone was going to great lengths to get their hands on Willows Peak Ranch; even going as far as poisoning the Windom's - the reason behind that still pecked at his brain like an annoying woodpecker. Where did they fit into the picture? If Willows Peak was the ultimate prize, Quincy understood the random fires and animal deaths that had made Clint begin to take notice; these petty crimes had escalated quickly into something far more sinister...murder.

After reading the report, Quincy had quickly informed the doctors as to the silent killer that had invaded the Windom's; they took what they knew and used it to combat the symptoms that had been plaguing their patients. The doctors waged a full-scale war against it, and in a matter of two days, Mr. and Mrs. Windom had made a surprising turn for the better.

Arsenic...not something that is normally considered in modern day illnesses; Quincy was still reeling from the reality of it. Antimony - an even more archaic poison - had indeed killed Clint and Misty Willows, but arsenic was the culprit with the Windom's. When you mixed the near murder of Erik Marchand into the picture, it all seemed too convenient to right-off as happenstance.

He had only just found out about the testimony that Erik had given once his mind had cleared and the events of that night had begun to focus. The pejorative information he had offered had been difficult to accept in this town where everyone was so closely knit. Quincy worried that there would another attack at the Willows Peak Ranch if this entire situation didn't get nipped in the bud...and quickly.

And then there had been the wonderful news he had heard about Erik and Randi getting married...they were headed to France as of this morning and were to have their nuptials there. Cody had stayed behind, choosing to spend the next four days with his best friend's family; as Erik and Randi were due back Sunday night...late.

In less than a month's time, everything had changed. A foul and fetid evil had been discovered in the area...one that had been silently devouring the peaceful community for reasons that were - as yet - unknown. A new man had come into Miranda Willows life, riding in from nowhere and stealing her heart...he had withstood an attempt on his life that would have taken out a lesser man, but Erik had only been more determined to lasso whatever demons were chasing the woman he loved and make them his own.

He spied the half empty bottle of water that sat on the corner of his desk. He, removed the cap, lifted it in the air, and proposed a toast, "Here's to Erik and Randi; may your years together only increase your love...Mazel Tov!"

He put the bottle to his mouth and drank to their happiness before pushing away from his desk and rising to leave...absently extinguishing the light as he left his office; there was work to be done.

TBC


	27. Chapter 27

This is a lengthy chapter, but I think you will enjoy it.

Also, allow me the liberties with the events leading up to the end of this chapter. Amazingly, things do go smoothly in real life at times. I figure that Erik and Randi deserve to have some things occur without event.

Anyway, enjoy.

CHAPTER 27

Paris had changed; Erik wondered, as he stood in his hotel room observing the pulsing horde of humanity, if it was for the better. Parisians had become self-absorbed and rude for the most part, snobbishly casting haughty eyes to anyone they viewed as a tourist, and pointedly ignoring them.

Randi hadn't seemed to notice though; he had sent her on a guided tour of the Louvre as he conducted his business with the procurer of artifacts for the Museum. The coins he had left with his mother were rare; and in France, they were a part of history that they had thought lost. Finding them again had been a challenge.

They had arrived in the early evening on Thursday, eaten at a wonderful French restaurant, taken a walk through the historic streets of Paris, and as Randi felt the effects of jet lag dragging her into a state of lethargy, Erik found their hotel without pause.

"Erik, it's all so beautiful...like a fairytale." Randi yawned as he put the key to her door and lifted her into his arms.

She weighed nothing against him, and he cherished the feel of her head against his shoulder. He found the bedroom door in the suite he had booked for her, placed her gently on the bed, removed her shoes, and pulled the covers up over her. She curled up, grasping onto his arm as she did so. Erik pried his arm out of her soft hands and bent to place a kiss upon her forehead, sweeping the playful tendrils of light auburn hair away as he did so.

He drank in the vision before him, the woman who had completely stolen his heart; a phenomenon that baffled him. He had sworn that he would never love again...that his heart was so destroyed by the blow that Christine had dealt it that it would never recover enough to be worth anything to anyone else; even if there was a woman out there desperate enough to want him.

But Randi wasn't desperate in any way; she could have any man she wanted. In fact, Erik had had to fight them off - not that she had wanted any of them. Erik still marveled at the way she looked at him, like he was handsome and whole, the only man for her. He could not doubt the love he saw in her eyes or felt in her touch; he would live the rest of his life trying to be worthy of that love.

She didn't even care that he had once been a creature bound to darkness; a man of myth surrounded by gossip and untruths that almost destroyed him. She accepted his past and all that he had been with a faith and love that humbled him. She even said his Phantom persona sent a delicious shiver of delight up her spine; she found all sides of him attractive.

He had tried over the last few years to put that side of him to rest; preferring to think himself normal. But the talents and gifts he had honed while being the Phantom were still a part of him...including the need to exact judgment on those he felt deserved it. He knew he had no right to think in such a way, but that didn't make the need go away.

It terrified him that there was someone - as yet unknown to him - that was out to destroy her, even more than had already been done. The villain whose face had sneered at him through his blood-tinged stupor the night of the fire was merely a minion...there was another, far deadlier enemy that was pulling the strings.

Offering the name to the police had gone against everything inside him; Erik wanted nothing more than to wrap his Punjab Lasso around the idiot's neck and squeeze until his eyes were bobbing out of his head and he had turned a lovely shade of blue - all of this while staring his prey in the eye so that he knew who it was that held his life in the balance.

Murderous thoughts had always been a part of him...he had even come close a few times while "performing" for the gypsies; self-preservation he supposed. He had trained intently after being freed; trained with the sword, hand-to-hand combat, different guns and knives, and the Punjab Lasso...and he was darn good at all of them. Never again would he feel victimized to the point that he could not defend himself.

Thrusting the violent thoughts from his mind, Erik left Randi's room for his own. Dressing much like he had as the Phantom in those long-ago days that for him had only been a few short years, he moved through the seedier hours of the night without detection, easily making his way through the underground tunnels and caverns beneath the city.

Although little had changed in the ghostly ruins, Erik's stomach turned at the ominous closeness of the air. If the spirits of the dead had remained within the confined area, Erik was certain he would be privy to some tremendous stories; as it was, he could feel the eerie quiet seeping into him like a sickness.

He quickly made his way to the tomb of his mother, finding it had only shifted slightly. The secret compartment did not open as easily as it once had, but he was able to retrieve the items he had come for and speedily get back to the hotel.

Looking back on it, Erik was amazed it had all gone down so easily. He moved from the window, preparing to meet a well rested Randi for dinner and a night at the opera. Tomorrow they were to be married in a very private ceremony at Notre Dame Cathedral. Erik had arranged everything with the priest, and although Randi had not been raised Catholic, he was willing to marry them.

On the flight over; which Erik had enjoyed immensely, Randi had confessed that she had heard him singing calmingly to the horses one night and asked him to sing to her at the wedding. He had never considered singing for anyone again...or making music in any way, for that matter. Foolishly, he had hoped it would not be a part of him anymore. Hearing Randi play his music and hum the words had been a gift; and even though he had felt the familiar tug within him to share the music with her, he had resisted.

However, he had struggled with the unwanted need to brush his fingers over the keys of the piano in Randi's great room several times since that night, and let the words that always swirled in his head create the lyrics to the melodies that only he could hear. Music was a part of him, and one that would not be extracted from him, no matter the determination.

While she had slept for the majority of the flight, Erik had gathered the entirety of his love for her, the struggle to get where he was, and put it all to music - in his head. The priest had been more than pleased to allow Erik the opportunity to play on their grand piano and serenade his wife to be. Erik hadn't realized how much he wanted to until that very moment.

He had also hired a photographer to commemorate the moment, and Randi would have her pick of wedding gowns - on hand - making the experience a little more formal. The ring he had purchased that afternoon while Randi had been pampering herself at a day spa in the Trianon Place & Spa where they were staying was nestled carefully in his pants pocket, ready to be placed upon her finger tonight after the opera.

The opera...how ironic it was that it would come back to this. He had seen the opulent Palais Garnier on the internet, had eagerly booked tickets for tonight's performance. La Bohème was the opera being performed, written in 1896 by an Italian composer named Giacomo Puccini. After Erik's time, but he had listened to some of the music on the internet as well, and he was very enthused about attending it.

It was the opera house they had used to model the Opera Populaire after in the movie they had watched, "The Phantom of the Opera", and although much of the detail did not reflect reality, he was impressed nonetheless. How strange it would feel to be back there...no Madam Giry, no Christine...no one who knew him for who and what he had once been...except Randi.

"Erik...?"

Having grown restless in her room, Randi had decided to meet Erik in his room instead of the lobby as they had agreed. She gracefully moved toward him dressed in a form-fitting, formal length, deep purple dress with a swoop neckline and spaghetti straps. She wore stiletto heeled, black shoes that accentuated her five-foot-seven height, the delightful curve of her hips as they swayed sensually - for his benefit - and the long, creamy expanse of her leg as it peeked at him through the slit in her dress.

Erik swallowed deeply, corralling the surge of raw, sexual desire that had suddenly gripped his loins at the sight of her; the soft swell of her breasts was taunting him as he tried to avert his eyes and look at anything that would squelch the need racing through him.

She looked amazing...and she knew it. His eyes leisurely raked up her body, not missing one curve or exposed piece of velvety flesh...in a matter of hours...it would all be his. Just thinking like that gave him a jolt of sexual adrenalin that made him rock hard on the spot; a fact that he soon found out did not escape her notice; if the shrewd smirk on her face was any indication.

A rich, low growl sounded in his chest and his eyes filled with appreciation for the sight she was; elegant, feminine, lethally beautiful. He was still humbled by her acceptance of him as he was - damaged, inside and out.

She glided into his arms, sinking into him with sensual ease; his large, warm hand cradled her neck as his lips scaled the sweetness of its petal-soft curve, teasing the pulse at its base with the tip of his tongue. Randi whimpered deliciously, enjoying his claim on her.

He found the fleshy lobe of her ear and gently suckled on it, his breath skating over her sensitive flesh and shooting rivulets of desire straight to her throbbing core. Her breasts were peaked, aching and begging for his touch...which she knew was not going to happen...not yet. He was such a proper gentleman on the outside, but Randi knew he burned for her - it smoldered in his turquoise eyes and in the response his body had to her.

"Erik..." she moaned, "...you make me so hot..."

Erik had found that a most unusual phrase when he had first heard it...in some movie he had been watching late at night; but now that he knew what it meant, he lifted his mouth in a roguish smirk. Tomorrow night she would be his and he could learn her woman's body and put into practice all he had read and observed in his almost 31 years of life; he was ready to burst right now just thinking about it.

Those sensual lips of his finally quit their wicked teasing and slid over hers with unabashed expertise; still mischievously claiming them with several short, salacious nips on her lips that only fanned the flame within her to a roaring fire until he begged entrance into the sweet nectar of her mouth with the warm, moist tip of his tongue.

Shamelessly she opened to him, accepting the plummeting pleasure of his tongue, wrapping hers around his with equal drive. The mastery with which he pulled the passion from her, drawing it into his self and then thrusting it back into her - hotly, wildly, fiercely - made her body sing his praises, begging him to show her body the same care he was showing her mouth.

His fingers feathered over the exposed flesh of her back, floating over the scented skin of her arms and shoulder, bringing goose pimples to the surface and another husky moan from her. It finally ended where it had started, gently spanning her neck with his fingers twining in her soft, bouncy curls. He sealed the kiss and pulled from her, breathing in her scent as he drew her hand to his lips for a gentlemanly kiss.

"Give me a few minutes to compose myself and we'll be on our way." Erik smirked, trying to hide the definite tent in his trousers by quickly heading for the bathroom, "I'll meet you in the lobby."

Randi banked a teasing grin and shook her head, "Don't be long; my love...there's no need to 'compose' yourself on my behalf."

Erik shot her an incredulous look over his shoulder as he shut the bathroom door and thought about the most disturbing thing he could think of - Piangi in leotards - the results were instantaneous; he checked his reflection in the mirror and tried to tame the locks of hair that always kissed his forehead. When the stubborn swirl refused to tuck neatly down with the rest of his hair, Erik rolled his eyes and gave up; he walked out of the bathroom mumbling his general frustration at the situation, grabbed his coat, and headed for the lobby.

۞۞۞۞

There was nothing that escaped his keen eyes as he swept them over the opulent theater. He had thought its predecessor was grand; but this...this was spectacular. For the first time since successfully leaping forward in time, Erik allowed his excitement to show. Randi didn't have to know that he was comparing it to the opera house he had known over a hundred and thirty years ago.

"It's like looking into heaven." Randi breathlessly remarked as she looked up at the domed ceiling; it was almost as if she could reach up and touch it. "Has it changed a lot since you saw it last?"

Erik shook his head but did not speak, it was indeed enchanting. He had marveled at the brilliant foyer that greeted them as they entered the building and made their way toward the lavish theater.

"I have never been in this opera house...I never had the opportunity." He explained as he gaped at its beauty, "It was being built as I was leaving France and was not completed until after I had been gone."

How odd it felt to walk the halls that were different and yet, the same; they echoed with the voices he had once heard; the spirits of that time seemed to linger in the magnificent carvings that decorated the wall and ceilings. Tears stung his eyes at the ache in his heart left there by the loss of Madam Giry and Meg...and even of Christine. He did not regret his decision to leave, but it didn't mean he stopped caring.

Once the opera started, Erik knew he had done the right thing in coming. Although he had been tolerated at the opera house, and his talents appreciated as long as no one had to deal with him personally; he had never been accepted for the true composer and musician that he was. He had been given little freedom when it came down to decision making, and the opera house, performers, and performances had suffered because of it.

Now he sat, accepted as a man by everyone who was around him, and especially by the woman who sat at his side. She had come to mean everything to him in such a short period of time. Her smile, her laugh, the way her hair floated around her stunning features like a fiery cloud; there was nothing about her that didn't move him.

As the opera rang on, Erik held Randi's hand as though it were a rare piece of spun glass; worshipfully and gently. The opera was truly a work of art and Erik and Randi both stood to their feet at the end of it, joining the entire audience in a resonant round of applause.

The experience had been surreal for Erik, giving him the chance to feed that inner part of him that still longed for music to lift him up on its great wings of freedom and take him away; but the world was not like it once was, and although music and his love of composing and performing would always be a part of him, it would never own him as it once had.

They walked along the River Seine, holding hands as the chilly evening breeze wrapped them in its brisk fingers. Tomorrow would be October 28th, and the weather was beginning to cool considerably as winter prepared herself for her grand entrance.

Randi curled against him, seeking his warmth and taking in his strong masculine scent; enjoying the closeness they shared. She giggled as he placed a kiss upon her nose and then wrapped his arm around her shoulders, drawing her even closer.

"I have French blood in me...did you know that?" She stated, looking him in the eye.

Erik smiled down at her, "No, I did not...you haven't talked much about your ancestral tree."

"True...but I really want to introduce you to them. When we get back to the hotel I have some pictures to show you."

She had wanted to do this for some time, but had never found the time. She wanted it to be just him and her - no Cody - so this was the time she had picked. She had packed the pictures in her suitcase, thankful to have them at her wedding, if only in spirit.

Erik had never been a part of a family, not one that carried the same blood. Madam Giry and Meg had been the closet thing he had. To finally be a part of a real family - one that had held together through generations and seen so much history come and go; being a part of it humbled him.

They weren't far from the hotel, so they rode a horse drawn carriage the couple of miles, taking in the sparkle of the stars in the night sky, eerily shrouded at times by lacey strands of grey clouds. It was one of the most romantic moments of Randi's life, and she would never forget it.

Despite being just minutes from downtown Paris, the hotel was secluded and quant...just like Randi had said she wanted. The lobby was bustling; guests heading this way and that...trying to get in the last bit of sight-seeing or tourist event before everything shut down for the night. Erik and Randi seemed oblivious to all but each other as they walked through the crowd arm in arm. Elevators were something that absolutely fascinated Erik and he once again felt the swell of excitement in his gut as they road the apparatus to the fourth floor.

Before going to her room, Erik dropped his coat and took off his tie, leaving them in his room which was right across the hall from hers. He kicked off his shoes and took off his socks; chuckling as he did so. There had been so many years in his life where he had worn as many clothes as he could, just to keep his body covered. In a matter of a month, Randi had built his self-confidence up enough to dress more casually and feel good doing so.

He stuffed the key to his room into his pants pocket, feeling the ring still nestled safely in the bottom of it. He ordered a bottle of champagne to her room and two glasses; he undid his cuff-links and headed out of his room to stand in front of her door.

He knocked softly, and it only took a minute for her to answer. She had managed to change into a lacy chiffon nightgown in the most beautiful shade of peach, accenting her fiery hair and the creamy texture of her skin. She was quite simply the most stunning woman Erik had ever seen. It was no more revealing than the gown she had worn this evening, but the knowledge that she wore nothing beneath it - as indicated by the firm outline of her breast and the alert peak of her nipples - made Erik intimately aware of her.

"Good lord, woman...you take my breath away." He growled, making her drop her lashes over her jeweled eyes and rake his form with a hungry sweep.

He made his way into the room, watching the material swirl around her legs as she gracefully walked in front of him, lethal in her femininity. She sat down on the divan, leaving just enough room for him to slip down beside her and rest his thigh against hers.

"Has anyone ever told you how gorgeous you are, Erik?" The husky timbre of her voice ran shivers up his spine. "You have a roguish quality to you that quenches the secret need within me to dally with a bad boy...and yet, you are the consummate gentleman; chivalrous and noble. It's like you're two different men within the same glorious body."

She boldly leaned into him, offering an up close view of her cleavage; a view she knew Erik appreciated...very much.

"And I love them both."

Erik basked in her praise, even if he didn't see in himself what she saw; it didn't matter, he satisfied her - that was all that counted. He took what she eagerly offered, brushing his lips over hers with maddening tenderness that threatened to drive her crazy with want for him.

He left the plush meadows of her mouth and cut an exquisite trail to her ear, stroking the downy flesh behind it. A primal shiver coursed through her that had absolutely nothing to do with fear of any kind, but pulled a low growl of approval from her swollen, pink lips. The soft warmth of his tongue teased the lobe, drawing on it as though it would grant him nourishment.

He started the languorous journey back to her waiting lips, and upon reaching his destination, licked his way into her mouth, ravishing and seducing her with every lazy stroke of his tongue.

Where in heavens name had the man learned to kiss like this? Randi was literally vibrating with a primitive hunger that heightened her senses and doubled her needs. His tongue tangled with her, sweeping through her mouth like molten velvet - smooth and deadly.

He pulled back, regarding her with smoky, savagely impassioned eyes. His voice was hoarse with pent-up, barely leashed desire and caged impulses.

"I want you right now...so bad it literally hurts."

He refrained from touching her, knowing that it would be his ruin to feel the softness of her skin beneath his fingers at that moment...his self- control was being sorely tested.

"Miranda...I love you more than life itself, and it has taken me a lifetime to find you..." he reached into his pocket and pulled out the ring, lifting her hand as he did so. "...I pledge myself to you for the remainder of my years - my sole purpose in life is to make you happy. I will provide for you and Cody, be a good husband to you, and a good brother to Cody."

He slipped the ring on her finger before she even knew he had it; as she felt it slide onto her hand, she gasped and sketched him the most dazzling smile.

"Erik..." She gazed at the ring with open approval, and then threw her arms around his neck, pushing him down in to the divan. She kissed every inch of his face, and claimed his mouth in a long, languid kiss.

"You have no idea how close I am to ravishing you right her and now, Love..." Erik groaned as she ended the kiss, "...you better just back up and not touch me for a few minutes."

She giggled and left him on the couch to retrieve her photo album. There was a knock on the room door and Erik retrieved the champagne, pouring it into the glasses as Miranda curled up on the divan again, pulling her legs beneath her as he once again seated himself beside her.

TBC


	28. Chapter 28

I know...wicked am I! (wink!!)

CHAPTER 28

It was all he could do not to spew the contents of his stomach into the waste basket that was stationed to his left. Eighteen years on the force and he had never seen anything like it. Not that they got a lot of mutilation cases in Rand...well, this was actually their first. In fact, Lieutenant Pete Murdock had to think back many years to come up with anything that was remotely close to being this brutal.

What made it even worse was the guy had still been alive when they were called to the scene. He had been sputtering words through a broken jaw; every tooth having been knocked out and lying arbitrarily around his head like the random bulbs off the string of Christmas lights...you know, the ones that keep the entire string from blinking so you single them out and toss them to the side.

The scene was like something out of a horror movie, only worse. Having come into it while the deceased was still breathing was what bothered him the most.

They had called for homicide and since he had only been a couple of blocks away, he had been the first on the scene after the officers had found the body. Horrific...gruesome...appalling; how many words were that came close to describing what he had seen upon entering. The M.E. had been called in and arrived just moments after he did.

"Hey Pete...what do we have here?"

Jarrod Carmichael had been an M.E. for six years, straight out of school; he was young and ambitious, with all the right connections to make a name for himself. He walked into the room with his normal cavalier sway, carrying his "doctor's bag" with him. What he saw was excruciatingly brutal to the eyes.

"Well doc...you tell me. It looks like the guy was on the wrong side of the railroad tracks if you ask me."

Jarrod immediately knelt beside beside the victim, opening the bag to draw out the needed instruments to complete his initial exam. He pulled out a small tape recorder and turned it on, slipping it into the pocket of his lab coat.

"Victim is male; age undeterminable at this time; lying in the prone position with what appears to be multiple blunt force trauma to the head and torso, pelvic area and legs."

While the young M.E. made his assessment, he inserted the liver probe to determine the time of death...and oddly enough, blood flowed. Almost stunned beyond words, he had stood promptly to his feet.

"Pete...this man's still alive!"

They had worked frantically after that, trying to preserve the man's life.

"Who did this to you...man...can you hear me?"

Pete repeatedly tried to get information that might help capture the animal that had done this.

After a few minutes, although it was barely audible, Pete heard garbled words spoken from the broken man.

"Must stop...Chief...Willows Peak..." he was fading fast - his words spewing forth in staccato beats, but Pete held him as firmly as he could to glean whatever answers he could, "...Plutonium."

The last words were excreted while he took his final breath, and Pete and Jarrod shared a look of astounded disbelief.

"Plutonium?" Jarrod asked, still sorting through the information as it had been given to them.

Yeah...Plutonium; Pete had an inkling that everything that had been going on at Willows Peak Ranch went far deeper and was far more sinister than they had originally thought.

"Who's 'Chief'...that's the next big mystery? Don't do anything with the body until I tell ya to."

With that, Pete dismissed himself, leaving the scene and forensic evidence to his team of experts and heading for the Sheriff's office.

۞۞۞۞

Sheriff Lyle V. Newcomb wasn't your ordinary, run-of-the-mill sheriff. He had been born on the rough side of town and most of what he had learned there was embedded in the tattoos that covered 70 of his body and the wicked scar that ran from the middle of his left temple to the tip of his mouth.

To look at him, one would think he was hewn from a solid piece of rock: a stern, weathered brow, ridged jaw, hollowed cheeks, and crooked nose lent him a piratical demeanor; all that was missing was the eye-patch, peg leg, and the parrot. His implacable, crafty eyes missed nothing; and as a result, he had never failed to solve a crime in the twenty-two years he had been serving the county.

He sat; booted feet stretched out before him, one elbow propped on the arm of his chair - looking every bit the seasoned professional that he was; the wafting smoke from his cigarette doing its part to cast the room into a haze. Detective Pete Murdock stood not two feet away, having dispelled the details of what had gone down at the crime scene earlier in the day. As disturbing as the scene had been to see with his eyes, having to visualize the gory details for an audible retelling was equally as stomach-churning.

"We have spooked someone...someone who's just made a big mistake." Sheriff Newcomb announced after Pete had finished his monologue.

Murdock took a seat in the hardwood chair on the other side of the desk and crossed his fleshy arms over his chest. Too many carbs over the years had left him pudgy and soft, but he could keep time with the rest of them when duty called.

"He was just a puppet, sir...dancing to another man's tune."

Sheriff Newcomb new this, all to well, "We were about to bring him in for questioning, after deciding that tailing him had gotten us nowhere." The sheriff pulled his legs in and scooted his chair forward. He took a long, hard draw off of his cigarette and another swig of black coffee before standing up and pinning Murdock with a brusque look.

"Something tells me that if Erik Marchand had perished in that fire a couple of weeks ago, we would be none the wiser about the goings-on in this boring little county."

There wasn't going to be any argument from Pete on that one.

"If he weren't so observant..." Lyle's deep eyes took on a rare look of weighty thought, "...I shudder to think about it. Even while he was slipping into unconsciousness he was taking mental notes of what was going on."

The man had given Murdock a feeling of unease at first. His tall, lithe body was athletic and toned, and he had a way about him that spoke of stealth and training. It had been easy to think he had military training - maybe some covert operations such as the Navy Seals - but he did not. There was something behind his eyes that made Pete wonder if the man was hiding something.

Although his injuries had been life threatening, Erik Marchand stood tall as he told them what he knew about his assailant; details that any other person might have missed. There was nothing but grey in Mr. Marchand's past; having come from where he did. The circumstances behind his lack of identification had been verified and France was very lax about the "lost children" who slipped through the cracks. Perhaps there was nothing but ugliness and loneliness in his past.

Murdock could certainly relate to that.

"You made sure that Jarrod knew not to clean the body until I got there...right?" Lyle asked, pointedly; snuffing the cigarette out with the scarred tips of his fingers. Murdock nodded his head and opened the door, allowing his boss to go through first and then quickly following. Sheriff Newcomb tossed the extinguished cigarette onto the ground and then walked to the Ford Escalade distinguishingly marked "Sheriff", and drew himself into the driver's seat.

"I'll drive...you get on the radio and make sure they know we're coming."

۞۞۞۞

This wasn't the CSI of television fame...they didn't have a Gill Grissom standing around in the shadows able to solve the most heinous of crimes with a single thread of evidence. This was pure, unadulterated reality; and as far as life imitating art...this was as ugly as it got.

What had once been a young man, vibrant and full of life, was reduced to a bloodied pile of what looked like a slaughtered animal. Lieutenant Murdock and Sheriff Newcomb, hardened as they were to such sights, both had to fight the impulse to regurgitate at the sight. Gory and atrocious - the reality of it far worse than either of them could have imagined.

"According to the amount of debris under the fingernails, I'd say he put up quite a fight before succumbing to the severity of his wounds."

That was putting it mildly...as far as they were concerned. Jarrod, the M.E. was examining the body with a staunch detachment that allowed him to put aside the fact that the slab of flesh in front of him had at one time been a living human being. The examination had been going on for three hours now, having begun when the sheriff and Murdock had entered the room.

Sheriff Newcomb stepped forward, taking a closer look at the body, "Cause of death?"

"Brain hemorrhage...too many blows to the head." Jarrod stated, wryly.

"Scum that he was, he didn't deserve this...no one does." Lieutenant Murdock growled.

"I found this...I'm not sure how important it is, but it might help..." he handed the small fragment of evidence to the sheriff who clutched in his gloved hand as though it was a treasure, "...it was clutched in his hand."

The button would have otherwise been unremarkable, but the fact that it was found clutched in the hands of a murder victim made it very remarkable...very remarkable indeed.

"Get this to Denver's lab...have Shauna take a look at it...she's the best in the business."

Murdock held out a small evidence envelope, allowing the sheriff to drop the button inside and then sealed it within.

"Anything else, Jarrod?" Sheriff Newcomb asked, still doing his own examination with the scrutinizing eyes of a veteran lawman.

"No sir...but if I find anything else, you'll be the first to know."

The two men exited the room, leaving Jarrod to complete his report and bag the body. Little did any of them know that the very man they sought would soon make a fatal error...underestimating his enemy.

TBC


	29. Chapter 29

I am sorry if confusion has set in, I hope all will bear with me...only four more chapters left.

CHAPTER 29

Pictures speak a thousand words; at least that's what they say. As Erik sat curled up on the divan with his beloved, listening to her regale him with the adventures of her ancestors, he felt a sense of belonging that had never before been his. Soon he was going to a part of something bigger than he was; something with lasting and deeply embedded roots.

She was working her way backwards, starting with her parents; the pride and joy she felt radiating through her animated eyes. The pictures were only half the story, the rest being told in her angelic features and the tenor of her voice; each picture represented a story; each person, a legacy.

"Abigail Willows was my great-grandmother; when my great-grandfather, Lucas Willows went to war during World War I, she was left behind with three small children and no way of feeding and clothing them."

Randi rubbed the tips of her fingers over the surface of the picture, caressing the image that was there. It was an action of love and Erik noticed the tenderness in her touch as she spoke.

"She chopped off her waist length, copper-brown hair, altered some of her husband's clothes, and went to work in a steel mill going by the name of Charles so she could make more money for her family. Her children never went hungry and one of them grew up to be a senator for Colorado, my father's uncle, Hadley F. Willows."

Erik felt humbled by the ferocity with which this woman had conquered prejudice and the bias opinion of her time. Not caring what she had to sacrifice or the humiliation she would have to endure, Abigail had forged a future for her children while her husband fought to secure that future with his own blood, never returning from the war, but sacrificing his all.

"What a brave woman she was...and her blood flows through your veins."

Randi wiped the moisture from her cheek and smiled, "Yes...it does." She said proudly, flipping the page of the photo album.

On she went, with what seemed like hundreds of tales about brave men and women who braved the winters of the Northeast, the Indians of the Southwest, and the mountains and prairies in between. They overcame devastating losses due to cholera, consumption, chicken pox and various other ailments, to prosper beyond their wildest dreams.

"I want our children to know their history; to be able to look at these pictures and know where they came from..." she lifted her eyes and looked deeply into his, fearing she would find loss and pain; but she found only a strange mix of admiration and reflection. "...what do you know of your family?"

"I only know that my father was a nobleman my mother was the daughter of a nobleman; he seduced her and left her pregnant. Unable to cope with the humiliation, her father cast her out - ruined and penniless. I was born and taken from her when I wasn't even a day old. She never recovered.

"I spent the first years of my life being raised by the gypsies...paying for crimes I never committed. It was while I was with the gypsies that I got this scar that mars my face and many of the ones that mar my soul."

She was crying - thinking of the pain he had suffered in his young life - all without his mother. His life was tragic, not much different than what literature had given him; and she found that very disturbing.

"It makes me angry to think that you were robbed of your mother and a normal childhood all because of circumstances you could not control..." Randi held him close to her, coating his chest with her tears, "...I know that our children will be loved no matter what...you have such a capacity to love."

Hearing her mention having children made Erik stop and consider the possibility. Obviously she would want children by him, but he had not even discussed it with her and they were to be married tomorrow. Having never known his father and never having a father figure in his life, Erik doubted his ability to be a good father. What if he was overbearing or too lenient; what if he lost control of his infamous temper and accidentally hurt his own child; what if he or she hated him immediately upon seeing his scarred, hideous face?

"You look as though you are about to be fed to the lions...what's wrong?"

Erik's broken smile did little to appease his racing heart. He had no desire to make his short-comings a topic of discussion, but he also did not wish to close himself off any longer, not to Randi.

"Just thinking, that's all." He mumbled, hoping to sound convincing.

"About what...your eyes suddenly grew panicked or something?"

Erik gnawed on his bottom lip, forcing Randi to stare at it longingly, "I've never seen myself as a father...I don't know what kind of father I'll be."

There was a lump in his throat, one that almost choked him as he thought about little auburn-haired girls swirling like dancers; smiling at him with joy and love in their eyes. It was a beautiful wish list...one he had always wanted but never thought to have.

Randi turned into him, placing her palms on each side of his face and staring into his luminous eyes, "You'll be a fantastic father...the way you treat Cody is all that I need to convince me of that. Our children will be blessed to have you as a father." She drew his lips to hers for a quick, impassioned kiss, "I see four in our future, two boys with the strength and devastating handsomeness of their father, and two girls with the intelligence and grace of their father...not to mention whatever traits they will get from me."

Erik gently claimed her lips again, deepening the kiss with a spike of his tongue against hers. She responded in like manner and they shared an intimate moment together before pulling apart.

"They will hopefully get everything from you; the world surely doesn't need another one of me." Erik teased, knowing she would not tolerate such self-deprecating words.

"You are a bad man..." Randi teased back, swatting his arm playfully, "...you're hot, Erik Marchand, believe me...you're hot, and smart, and so incredibly talented that I don't know what I did to deserve you."

He laughed, but said nothing to retort what she was saying; he knew better. As she flipped another page, his mouth went dry and his heart nearly leapt from his chest. There, staring back at him from the pages of his bride-to-be's family pictorial album was the face of Christine.

Swallowing his shock and disbelief, he waited for Randi to explain; unaware that he had clinched his fists and his knuckles were turning white.

"These are the two who started it all...Ainsley and Christine Willows, my great-great-great grandparents. He meant her on a ship, oddly enough. He had been born in England of a privileged family. A few years after the Civil War ended, he headed to the states, leaving his parents in England. It was upon that ship that he meant Christine.

"We don't really know much about her; she never told anyone anything about herself. Apparently, she had been about to marry a nobleman of some sort, but had no desire to so...it is said that she had suffered a great, personal loss which left her bereft and depressed until she just took it upon herself to leave France and venture out, finally ending up aboard a ship bound from England to Boston."

Words failed him. Somehow...some way, he had ended up falling in love with Christine's great-great-great granddaughter. Only Divine providence could have designed this one. He wanted to shout from the highest mountain...declaring that he had been an intricate part of a tremendous miracle.

_I was meant to be here...my knee did not accidentally knock the meter to a different destination, it was fate...God's hand guiding me to the place I was meant to be. __Casper__, you rascal...you're probably up there shouting instructions of some sort..._Erik smiled as thoughts and memories flooded his mind..._thanks old friend._

"Erik...you okay?"

He heard Randi's soothing voice, and once again sent his words towards heaven. _I'll take care of her, Christine; I promise. _He smiled down at her, tears forming in the corners of his eyes. _She's the love of my life._

"Miranda...you're not going to believe this, but that's my Christine."

"What?" She asked, not fully grasping his words.

"Christine Daae is your great-great-great grandmother and she was the woman I knew at the opera house...my student and the woman I thought I loved."

"You're kidding...really?" She said in awe, "You could have been in my family tree if you and she had married..." She made a strange sound, "...that's freaky!! I'm glad you didn't and came here to be with me."

He laughed at that, "It really is a small world...even in different centuries."

Grabbing her gently around the waist, he lifted her into his lap, straddled her legs over his hips and wedged her against him. She wound her fingers through the soft, dark tresses of his shoulder length hair, loving how the silky strands seemed to come alive at her touch.

"It should be a sin for a man to have hair this beautiful." She whispered, placing her cheek against it and feathering the words across the sensitive surface of his ear.

The low rumble of his soft laugh thrilled her, causing a warm sensation to shoot to her throbbing core which rested longingly against the obvious swell of his arousal. Repressing her natural desire to rub against him, Randi held still, enjoying the feel of his hands as they slowly inched up her back. He was a gentleman, through and through - irritatingly so; she longed for much, much more.

"I happen to think that the fiery curls which frame your face like an evening sunset are much more of a treasure than my dull, dark brown hair."

She ran her tongue sensually over the exposed skin of his neck, smiling when he tilted his head to allow her more access. Her questing fingers sought the buttons of his shirt and began slowly undoing them, only to have her efforts thwarted by the gentle intrusion of his hand upon hers.

"If you do that, I'm not sure I'll be in control of my reactions. It want you to be mine in the eyes of God before I make love to you...this I will do right."

She smiled despite the raging inferno of desire that burned within her, "I love that about you...I really do. It's almost unheard of these days."

He felt her button his shirt again, although the pout on her lips was almost his undoing, "Madam Giry raised me to be a gentleman as best she could." He stated, feeling more and more physically uncomfortable with each passing moment.

She was seducing him with just the soft feel of her lips against his hair and the low, husky rumble of her voice. His hands ached to explore the lush curves of her body, the very curves she seemed content to push sensually against him; forcing low moans of pleasure deep within his throat.

"Randi..." he growled, gently pushing her back so that she no longer rubbed against his straining flesh, "...you must stop. I am a thirty-year-old man who's never been intimate with a woman and my control is about ready to snap."

She pulled away and cocked her head to the side, "Never?"

He smirked and arched a dark, elegant brow, "Never."

She smiled broadly, feeling as though her world had suddenly come alive, "I think that is the sexiest thing you could have ever said to me."

He chuckled, turning a slight shade of pink at having confessed that wayward bit of information.

"Don't worry, my love...I've never been intimate either...we'll discover things together in our marriage bed." Randi caressed, gently pushing his hair back and over his shoulder, "Just as it should be."

"Believe me, my love; I am well versed in what is involved in making a woman's body come alive with my touch...making it sing against me; I've just never put my knowledge to the test."

She grinned again, than devoured his mouth with a scorching kiss. "I endorse the furthering of your education in this matter and eagerly volunteer to be your test subject."

His eyes darkened and a sensual smirk played upon his lips, "Meet me in my room tomorrow afternoon and we'll get down to business."

۞۞۞۞

It was the hardest thing he had ever done...leaving her that evening. So much had happened - between giving her the ring and finding out that she was a distant relative of Christine's. He had heard that the world was small, but he had never considered just how small until tonight.

Knowing that tomorrow she would be his in body as well as heart, had him pacing the floor at all hours of the morning. He refused to satisfy his desire again, wanting it to build until the moment when he would at last know the intimate feel of a woman; when he could slake all the years of unrequited passion that his music instilled within him on the willing body of the woman he loved.

He poured himself some Scotch and soda and sat down in front of the television, awaiting the Late, Late Show with Craig Ferguson; the man was really funny. His face crinkled pleasantly with a hint of a smirk as he marveled at the journey he had undertaken a mere one month ago. Who would have thought he would be here, in Paris of 2007, with a woman who had agreed to be his wife simply because she loved him; a sizable fortune in the bank and a bright future ahead of him?

_Not me, that's for sure. _He thought to himself, still stunned by the reality of it. His present life was as much a shock to him as the reality of his past; and yet, Erik sensed a dark cloud descending on them...he just couldn't seem to find it through the bright, promising rays of the sun.

TBC


	30. Chapter 30

Sorry for the long delay...my son, the one in the Navy, came home for my husband's b-day! We had a great time; all three of my sons, my daughter-in-law, my granddaughter and my hubby...who could ask for more!!

Anyway, this is a lengthy chapter, but I think you'll like it.

I wish to apologize to my beta, Mlle.Fox, for not passing the last few chapters by her. I don't get much time on the computer, and when I do, I am working on my next story or posting a chapter...so please accept my heartfelt apology.

Ignore the boo-boos...please.

CHAPTER 30

There were few who had dared cross him...few who had ever offered a challenging joust of wits. It wasn't that he didn't appreciate the efforts put forth; he just did not like being made to look the fool.

He'd had a good thing going all these years; gaining the trust of those around him. They had blindly dropped all he desired into his lap and trustingly fed out of his poisoned hand; never suspecting for an instant that he was not the benevolent neighbor and friend that he led them to believe he was.

If things had only gone as he had planned all those years ago, none of this would have been necessary. People were always getting in his way...and it annoyed him immensely. No matter whom he associated himself with; they never understood their place, which was quite plainly beneath him, in all things.

The day was breezy and sinking into the upper 50s; typical for this time of year; he couldn't help thinking how beautiful it truly was. Fall had begun leaving its mark all over the place; falling leaves, a colorful backdrop for the

He sat watching people go to and fro; ignoring him for the most part. He found that amusing; if they knew what his intentions were, they would be frantic. Instead, they waved at him, most of them having known him for years, and he waved back - with not a care in the world.

Had he always been this intolerant of the lesser? He couldn't remember a time when he hadn't been. It was a trait passed down from his father and his grandfather; both were considered upstanding citizens as far as the superficial went - but few had really known them; dark, evil secrets hidden beneath masks of civility and breeding.

At an early age he had been taught to hate; a festering, malignant kind of hatred that tended to turn a soul into something black and putrid. He had barely been able to function in his formative teen years - so many lessers puttering about - taking up space and breathing the same air. He had learned to hide his disdain beneath a sickening sweet smile and the elegant use of speech.

Prejudice came in many forms; intolerance for certain colors of skin, certain nationalities, those from a certain social and financial status, those with different religious beliefs...he hated them all...and a few others he couldn't place in any one category.

Even more than hatred of others, he thrived on greed...and lust. His lust entailed many things...not the least of which was a certain red-headed woman whose very existence reminded him everyday of the woman he had lost. A woman he had fought years to have and to whom he had given much of himself before she abandoned him for another; leaving him seething with a fury that was far stronger and deeper than any he had ever felt.

He had soon discovered that hatred could easily turn to love, and love to hatred. Every move he made from then on had been calculated and planned...slowly and relentlessly bringing all those who had dared to cross him to their knees, all with the ease of his diabolical smile and a cold charm he had perfected over the years.

His sharp eyes caught sight of his quarry and a slow, menacing smile formed on his thin lips. He was in no hurry at this time...there was plenty of time to capture his prey before the opportunity passed...he had watched and planned for days. The smile grew as he thought about the ease involved; people were such creatures of habit, no matter what their age. Taking the same path every day was not a smart idea when one was being watched; but then, the boy had no idea he was being watched.

۞۞۞۞

There were things in the world that compared to the Rocky Mountains during the spring, at least in Randi's opinion; however, as she stood gazing with awe filled eyes at the reverent beauty of Notre Dame, she had to consider the possibility that it came close.

She stood in complete wonder looking up at the heavenly display that had been built into the earthly sanctuary. Places like this just seemed to inspire one to be closer to God...and Randi was no exception.

This was her wedding day. Miracle of miracles had finally happened and the man of her dreams had literally walked off the pages of history and swept her off her feet. Erik was everything a woman could possibly want in a man, and much more. His flaws only seemed to emphasize his perfections and made her love him more...if that was possible.

He had arranged all of this; the silk gown she wore that clung to her curves as though it had been painted on to them; the perfect shoes that only made the gown that much more impressive; the bejeweled necklace she had around her slender neck that swooped leisurely down into the teasing show of cleavage that the gown allowed; the five piece, string ensemble that played quietly in the background, setting the mood; and the cathedral itself. She never would have believed that she would ever make it to France, let alone be married in Notre Dame Catherdral.

Even more than all of these things, he had arranged to have Heidi fly in and be there for her, as a way of making up for the fact that she had no family other than Cody, and he could not join them because of school activities. It meant so much to her to have Heidi there, and the tears she had cried at seeing her girlfriend perched on an ornate pew were still present on the porcelain skin of her cheeks.

As she moved forward, she saw him there, standing at the front of the long aisle awaiting her arrival. He had purchased a dove grey tuxedo with a white shirt and cravat. He looked stunning to say the least, and Randi smiled at the thought that in a few minutes, he would be all hers; from the top of his silky raven locks to bottom of his decidedly sexy feet - and all the delectable parts in between!!

Erik was just thankful that she hadn't changed her mind about marrying him; watching her walk toward and accept his hand was perhaps the most profound moment in his life. He realized how much he had wanted this for so many years; the love and devotion of one woman...the woman...his soul mate...Miranda Christine Willows.

Nay...Miranda Christine Marchand; knowing that she carried Christine's blood in her veins had not been as important to him as he had originally thought it would be. He loved her over and above that...not because of it. It had fallen for her long ago...probably within the first few hours of knowing her.

Now, she advanced toward him, her dress showing all the wonderful curves that he would explore intimately later...the rush of adrenalin shooting straight to his groin only made that moment seem an eternity of heartbeats away. He had chosen that gown, and it thrilled him that she had picked it to please him. Her flaming hair was loose and framed her stunning features like a crown of fire; her smile - directed at him - soothed his rattled nerves and served to make him feel at ease.

Nothing would mar this day; not even the nagging feeling at the core of each of his nerves; the feeling that had him edgy with caged energy and bravely trying to ignore a prickling sensation at the base of his neck. He would not allow his own insecurities and irrational thoughts impede this moment...he would not.

,

The priest could not hide the slight smile that formed on the stern corners of his lips. He had been in the priesthood for over thirty years and had seen many couples enter into holy matrimony; but the look of awestruck wonder that the young couple seemed to share was something of which he would never tire.

As their hands touched, so did their eyes - the passionate love between them seemed palpable; practically a life force in and of itself. It was as though they were aware of only each other and the world was their playground; if he would have ever had the inkling to leave the priesthood for love, he would have settled for nothing less than what these two shared.

Leveling his fatherly gaze upon Erik, the priest opened the Bible he held gently and worshipfully in his hand and began to speak from his heart.

"The bonding of a man and a woman was ordained by God at the dawning of time as we know it. The man was given instructions to leave his parents and bond only with his wife; forsaking all others for only her. He was instructed by Christ to love his wife as He, God the Son, loved the church and gave His life for her."

Father Beauvier paused a moment, giving his next thoughts a moment to straighten themselves in his mind. Every ceremony was different, and he used the Spirit that resided within him to guide his words and lead his thoughts. What he said was often lost on him, but the couple always seemed to hear exactly what they needed to hear.

"This is a serious charge, young man. God created man first and intends for him to be the spiritual leader of the household and to manage his family as the second most important thing in his life - second only to God Himself. Miranda's needs and desires must be placed above your own, to the point of sacrifice.

"To make this vow to her entails that you are aware of the holy and sacred importance God places on marriage. Do you understand and fully accept the sanctity of marriage in God's eyes?"

Erik answered with a firm but hallowed, "Yes."

"Do you vow before God and the small gathering of people here that you will forsake all others and take unto yourself only Miranda for the remaining days of your life upon this earth?"

"Yes; I make this vow."

"At this time, you may place upon her ring finger the visual sign of your commitment to her."

Erik took the band of solid gold that didn't even reach the first knuckle on his pinky finger and placed it on Miranda's ring finger, astonished at the tremble he saw in his hand.

Father Beauvier turned slightly, facing Randi, "Erik has vowed to honor you as his wife for the rest of his days, but God did not leave the woman bereft of responsibility in the bond of marriage. She was instructed directly after the fall of man to put her husband's needs above her own, that her desire would be for him and him alone. Our Lord, during His earthly ministry, let it be known that the woman is the helpmate or partner to her husband; she is to be to him all that he needs for her to be."

That stern, fatherly gaze bore into Randi's eyes, making her very aware of what he was saying to her.

"Do you understand and accept that Erik is to be the head of the household, but that you are to be his partner; that you are his life and help mate; forsaking all others until the day that death parts you?"

Miranda stared deeply into Erik's beloved eyes, "Yes."

"Do you vow before God and the small gathering of people here that you will forsake all others and take unto yourself only Miranda for the remaining days of your life upon this earth?"

"Yes; I make this vow"

"You may place upon his finger your outward promise of this inner commitment."

The plain gold band she placed on Erik's finger fit him perfectly; and the surprised look on his face was worth every penny she had paid for it.

"God's word tells that, together you two are to be one - heart, mind, and body. You are instructed as a couple to be fruitful and multiply - for this is the will of the Father in heaven."

Looking at them both, he smiled and then winked at Erik, "You may kiss your bride."

Soft, searching lips meant in a chaste kiss, one that Randi knew was full of promise and suppressed passion...a passion she could hardly wait to unlock.

"Now, grow together, laugh together, cry together, love together...live life to its fullest together." The priest lifted his hands and said a short, but sweet prayer. Whispering his "Amen", he lifted his warm brown eyes and issued his last warning.

"What God has joined together, let no one tear apart."

His gaze landed on Erik, who turned toward Randi with the moist evidence of tears on his cheeks. His hands wrapped around hers as the small ensemble of musicians began to play...

_"Like the sound of silence calling..._

_I hear your voice and suddenly I'm falling..._

_lost in a dream._

_Like the echoes of our souls are meeting..._

_You say those words, and my heart stops beating..._

_I wonder what it means._

_What could it be that comes over me?_

_At times I can't move...at times I can hardly breathe."_

Randi was mesmerized as Erik graced the sanctuary with his heavenly voice. She was still stunned at the beauty of it, not understanding why he wasn't in Hollywood or on Broadway.

She could hear the love he had for her in every nuance of his tone and she knew she could spend the rest of her life destitute and crippled if only she could hear his voice every day and die in his arms while he sang to her.

_"When you say you love me..._

_The world goes still, so still inside._

_When you say you love me..._

_For a moment, there's no one else alive._

_You're the one I've always thought of..._

_I don't know why but I feel sheltered in your arms._

_You're where I belong._

_And when you're with me, if I close my eyes,_

_there are times I swear I feel like I can fly._

_For a moment in time..._

_somewhere between the heavens and earth;_

_I'm frozen in time...oh when you say these words... _

_When you say you love me..._

_The world goes still, so still inside._

_When you say you love me..._

_For a moment, there's no one else alive._

_And this journey that we're on..._

_how far we've come and I celebrate every moment._

_When you say you love me, that's all you have to say..._

_I'll always feel this way._

_When you say you love me..._

_The world goes still, so still inside._

_When you say you love me..._

_In that moment, I know that I'm alive._

_When you say you love me..._

_When you say you love me,_

_Do you know how I love you?"_

Song is, "When You Say You Love Me", written by Mark Hammond and Robin Scoffield, sung by Josh Groban

It was a moment that should have been frozen in time; perfectly pure, sacred, and real. Erik had never before opened himself up like this - sharing his voice with anyone other than himself and Christine...even Bernadette had never heard him sing...at least as far as he knew.

"I love you." Randi whispered, softly placing her lips to his before quietly heading down the aisle toward the back of the cathedral.

The music ended and Heidi was beside them; a tear pouring down her smiling face and hugs for both of them. She had shared with Erik about the improvement in her parents, especially after she found out that it was he who had recommended the doctors check for poisoning.

"I owe you a debt I can never repay." She had said last night on the phone, before catching the flight to Paris.

"You owe me nothing, Heidi...I'm just glad I could help."

It really felt good, helping others and being considered a good person. Erik had never thought much about that before he'd meant Randi. He watched Heidi hug his bride and then she was headed out the door, eager to get back to Rand and her parents.

"You two have a delightful wedding night, and I'll see you back in Rand in a couple of days."

Erik felt the anticipation of the evening begin to settle deep in his body; creating the most agonizingly torturous arousal that he had ever felt; one look at his wife in her silky dress with the swooping neckline and he was on the verge of totally embarrassing himself. His smile hovered somewhere between sensual misery and virginal wonder as he took his wife's hand and allowed her to lead him out of the holy building to catch the limousine to their hotel.



Even though there was a very insistent part of him that demanded attention, Erik chose to not embarrass himself or his bride and remain gentlemanly until they were actually in their room. He sat beside her, the solid length of his thigh rubbing steadily against hers; slowly building the pressure in his groin.

His arms rested gently on her shoulder as he leaned in to nuzzle the downy surface of her neck, breathing in the fresh, womanly scent of her. He wasn't sure if proper behavior dictated that he keep his hands to himself, so he opted on the side of caution, keeping one hand on the curve of her cheek and the other at her waist.

"You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen...how did I ever live without you?"

Randi tweaked his nose and a smile teased her lips, "You're just saying that so that you will get to see me naked."

Erik made a gallant sweep of his hand, touching it to the place over his heart, "You wound me, my lady..." he swooned and then proceeded to wiggle his dark brows amusingly, "...I intend to do more than just see you naked."

The dark passion in his eyes made Randi's breath catch in her throat, but she could not resist their pull as she eased toward his delectable mouth, opening to his kiss upon contact.

Tongues merged, hearts pounded, and breathing deepened; and their only thoughts were of each other. Erik pushed his fingers through the silky fire of her hair, pulling her closer to him, claiming dominance over her. He demanded more of her, gently nibbling the soft skin of her neck, bringing a deep, pleasured moan from his bride.

"Woman..." his tone was lathered with passion, "...you undo me." He growled softly as she molded to him, purring for more of what he had to give.

Thankfully, at least for the driver, they arrived at their hotel before Erik threw caution to the wind and took what was his.

_His._ She was his.

After spanning what amounted to a century of time, he had finally found her.

His friend...his lifemate...his wife...his love.



Once in the room, it was as though time slowed down. Erik began a slow seduction that started at the door as soon as it was shut behind them. He had carried her across the threshold, and now he eased her down the inflamed surface of his body, enjoying the sensuous softness of her curves as they moved against him.

His large, articulate hands feathered over her back, tantalizing its softness with the masculine roughness of his skin. They drifted over the arch of her back and settled firmly on the curve of her backside, gently kneading the pliable flesh; Erik groaned his appreciation; feeling himself harden even more in anticipation of what was to come.

With the tender pressure of his hands, her body was pushed against his and his mouth quickly possessed hers with greedy need. He stroked her lips with maddening tenderness, his tongue gently brushing over her, begging her surrender. She opened to him without resistance and Erik took possession.

The hands that had rested upon her backside, gathered the silky folds of her gown and drew them up, brushing his fingers over the sensitive flesh of her thighs - causing a quiver of pure desire to course through her. His mouth was doing maddening things to her insides while his hands worked on the outside.

His lips moved down the slope of her neck, adoring how she arched against him when she bent her head back to give him easier access to her eager body. He steadied her, feeling her swoon against him; his hands moved up to coax the straps of her gown over her shoulders so that the material floated easily to the floor, leaving her standing before him in nothing but her white teddy, lacy underpants, white hose, and garter belts.

Having left all shyness behind, Randi teasingly displayed her female form for him, knowing that he loved every inch of her. She could feel the heat of his gaze as he studied the pert nubs of her nipples as they came to attention beneath his hungry eyes. There was nothing but a shimmer of lace between them and his eyes, and she longed to feel his hands caress the flesh he visually stroked.

She raked her eyes up his form, smiling at the very noticeable bulge in the front of his pants. She knew he had noticed the direction of her gaze, as he began to slowly undo the top button of his trousers; a wickedly sensual glow in his eyes.

"You are way over-dressed, my love, I long to see your glorious body." Randi purred as she came forward to pull the tails of his shirt out from his pants and undo each button.

She kissed the exposed flesh of his chest as the shirt gave way to his tanned skin. She had seen this part of him in the past, but she had not touched him as she had longed to. Her hands eagerly spanned the flawless surface of his chest, admiring the perfect splay of hair and the roped muscles that danced with her touch.

Erik made quick work of the buttons at his cuffs and the shirt dropped off his arms and landed on the floor. Randi inched her fingers beneath the waistband of his pants and began to lower them, feeling a bit of trepidation as she felt the swollen arc of his erection against her lower belly. Her husband slammed his eyes shut and growled, fisting his hands to keep from dragging her to the floor right there and then.

The pants rested at his feet and Randi slowly moved back up his body. Through his boxer shorts, she could easily see the outline of his full arousal. Randi's breath caught in her throat; if the size of the outline was any indication, Erik was a gifted man. She curiously reached her hand out and ran it up the clothed length of him.

She had never been this intimate with a man before, and found that she wanted to explore every hard, throbbing inch of what made him a man. Her hand moved more forcefully over him, gripping him through the material of his shorts and rubbing gently but firmly.

Erik was panting, trying to maintain his control. If he let himself go, the evening would not go quite as he had hoped. He was close to exploding in his shorts if she didn't stop...and stop now.

His feral growl was all that warned her that he was on the hunt; tired of the foreplay and too close to coming, Erik pulled her up to him, lifted her until her legs wrapped around his waist and the heat of her aching core rested tantalizingly close to his sex, then he quickly deposited them both on the bed.

Leaving her no time to protest, even if she had wanted to, Erik lowered his head to the straining peaks of her breasts. He kissed her through the lace, creating a sweet friction upon her engorged nipple that made her squirm with need and grasp the back of his head to push him against her. Erik instinctually knew his next move and swept his tongue over the erect peak, causing her to groan and writhe even more.

Without words, he unlaced the front of the teddy with expert fingers; exposing her swelling bosom to his desire-filled eyes. She could see the wonder in his gaze and watching his mouth envelope her naked breast was the most arousing scene she had ever seen.

Slowly, not caring that every whispering touch of his mouth and tongue were driving Randi to the brink of insanity, Erik paid homage to each aching breast, taking the peaks into his mouth and nibbling with his teeth. His talented hands moved to unfasten the garters and when that was done, he moved them to the aching crux between her legs; still working his mouth over her jutting crests.

No man had ever known her in such a way, and Randi was almost overwhelmed with the hot need that seemed to spring forth from her womb; creating a sweet ache that she knew could only be absolved by Erik's thrust into her body.

She opened to his gentle, questing fingers, the most feral side of her begging him to rip the panties off and bury the part of him she had only dreamed about deep within her; but Erik seemed in no hurry to get the deed done.

He tenderly rubbed her through the material of her panties, driving her mad with wanting; and before long, he kissed his way down her stomach, nipping and tasting her as he went. The room was barely lit, but when Erik stood to remove her panties, Randi needed to see him - all of him - naked and vulnerable to her touch.

"Let me look at you...I need to see you."

Her husky tone was doing as much for his passion as the feel of her moist need for him had done; the idea of her eyes resting upon his aroused body did strange and wonderful things to him. He stood and pushed his boxers off, leaving himself open to her full view.

She sat up and moved to the edge of the bed, her eyes beheld the fullness of his aroused male form. She had never seen anything so beautiful and frightening; something that she knew would bring her great pleasure, but would first bring her pain. He jutted out before her, proud and strong, ready to give her whatever she asked, whatever she wanted.

"Touch me, Randi...know me."

He must have seen the desire in her eyes; the need to wrap her fingers around him again and feel what she feared...what she longed for. Her hand delicately traced the contours of his thighs as she played with the muscles she had admired for so long. She marveled at the coils of dark hair that covered his body, especially those that rested around the root of his manhood.

She knew what her touch would do to him, and that knowledge made her own arousal stronger. She took all of him in, raking his body with her hungry gaze, noticing he was beautiful; perfectly straight, longer than she would have guessed and pleasantly thick. She leaned in and put her hands around him, catching the moan that escaped him and relishing it.

Her hands followed the stiff rod from the moisture-tipped, plum-colored head to the velvety textured staff; memorizing the prominent veins that ran the length of him; and she finally cupped the two sacs that hang heavily at the base. Erik's head was slung back, and low moans sounded in his chest; his hands twirled through her hair, gently massaging her skull with his strong fingers.

Acting on pure instinct, Randi continued to stroke his engorged sacs, but took her mouth to his stiff rod, tasting him; taking his essence into her body. He gasped at the pleasure she was giving him, and slowly turned and sank to the bed, bringing her with him...her mouth still stroking his length.

It felt wonderful; Randi was deriving pleasure from having him in her mouth, something she would never have thought would happen. It was like the romance books she loved to read so much...she felt the power she possessed as a woman; the power she held over his body and its eventual need to release his life-giving seed.

He trembled beneath her as she found a rhythm that had him pumping his hips and gripping the sheets in his fisted hands. After a few more pumps, Erik could take no more and pulled her off him, bringing her beneath him with lightning speed.

Her panties were off and Erik was between her legs; his fingers playing with the moist curls surrounding her sex, and then he opened her. With ruthless tenderness, he found the tiny, erect nub that had been causing all the throbbing and the ache that Randi could not control. He rubbed it gently, making Randi arch her back and buck against him.

She ground against him, the humming in her body causing her to bite her lower lip to keep from screaming; but all that was forgotten when his mouth and tongue replaced his fingers.

One sweep of his tongue and Randi came unglued. Strong spasms gripped her body, curling her toes and causing quivering pleasure to race through her blood. Erik held her hips with his arms as she rode against him, burying his face against her as he rode her pleasure.

Erik knew that now was the time to take her maidenhead, while her body was on a passion high and her own juices were coating her. He pulled himself up her trembling body and pushed his way inside her, growling as she wrapped her legs around his waist, preparing to take all of him.

"I'll try to be careful, my love...stay open for me."

And she did; long, sleek, and hot. There was little resistance as he slowly inched his way in, meeting her barrier and breaking it in an instant. She gave a slight wince as she surrendered to him, but the pleasure soon took over and all else was forgotten.

How did any man last more than a few minutes wrapped in the sweet haven of a woman's warmth? At that moment, Erik had no idea; he only knew that he felt his own body's climax building. He was determined to bring her with him, giving her the ultimate pleasure again; so he slowed his strokes, pulling out of her and then slowly gliding into her again and again.

She was panting with need, her heart racing in her chest and the sweet friction of his body in hers was about to send her over the edge again. Randi arched her hips as Erik pulled back and rested her legs over his shoulders, further deepening his thrusts. He leaned over her and took her mouth in a kiss that matched the driving piston of his hips.

She writhed beneath him as her pinnacle approached; Erik felt the clutching strength of her inner muscles as she came for him; and he took his own pleasure. The powerful release shook his entire body, and he let out a feral roar that would have made a lion proud. He was so deeply buried within her, that Randi was certain she could feel the strong jets of his seed coating her cervix.

They floated together for a time, neither of them willing to lose the wonder of the moment. Their breathing began to slowly return to normal, and when Erik finally lifted his head to look at Randi, he noticed the amazing blush of her skin and the sensual glow in her eyes; he would never forget the look of her right then; in that moment.

Without words, Erik stroked her lips again, letting her know he was the happiest man on earth at that moment. Not wanting to pull out of her, Erik turned them both on their sides, and wrapped his arms around her. He held her to him, sated and satisfied, until she began a slow exploration of his shoulder with her lips and tongue; then he proceeded to make slow, passionate love to her again.

TBC


	31. Chapter 31

I found out his week that my son and daughter-in-law are expecting a baby boy...his name is Seth Mitchell and he is due to be here in February!

What a blessed woman I am.

Anyway, here's the next one.

CHAPTER 31

They finally did drift to sleep in each others arms; somewhere around three in the morning. When their room phone rang at 4:30, they both ignored it, thinking it was a dream...a really bad dream. It rang seven times before Erik finally roused enough to realize it was a real phone and not one invading his dreams.

"Erik."

Erik immediately recognized the voice of Sheriff Newcomb on the other end and knew that something had gone dreadfully wrong.

"Sheriff, what's wrong?"

Randi sat up, her immediate attention drawn by the severe tone of Erik's voice.

"Cody was kidnapped tonight."

The dread that swept the color from Erik's face and immediately fed tears to his eyes was all that Randi saw...and it was enough.

"We're on our way...be there in the early morning." He didn't wait for the Sheriff to say anything more. He hung up and pulled Randi into his embrace, knowing she already suspected something was wrong , "Someone got Cody..." He ground out, fighting the urge to scream with rage.

When Randi collapsed in his arms, he gently held her while she sobbed against him; but his thoughts were anything but gentle. The Phantom, once a very dominant and demanding part of him, arose once more; scarred, skilled, and deadly serious. Erik knew this side of him needed to be held in check; caged deep within him to keep the peace.

But the rage hummed beneath the surface...begging for release; insisting that Erik do something. His body was honed for action; literally antsy with the need to exert punishment. Reaching the depths of his soul and tuning into that part of himself; Erik could see and feel the panic Cody must be experiencing...and the fury burned deeper.

Randi sensed the change in him; felt the curse of something dark and menacing burrowing through him. She lifted her head and raised concerned, blood-rimmed eyes to him.

"Don't Erik...don't do it." She whispered, somehow sensing that he was battling with the need to take matters into his own hands. "Do not do something that will put you behind bars and away from me...I will not stand for it."

She was being strong and straight at a time when Erik was certain she wanted to curl up and cry. Her tone was one of certainty, pulling him back from the miry muck he had allowed himself to sink into and forcing him to face the darker side of his soul...

...he didn't like what he saw.

He hugged her tighter to his chest and placed a calming kiss to her forehead; taming the feral beast that he had kept pinned down for so very long. His racing heart slowed to a normal rate and the heat that had torn through him dissipated, leaving him drained and hurting.

"I'm sorry, I just feel so helpless and when I get that way I start entertaining thoughts that probably aren't productive." He rendered one more kiss to her sweet mouth, wishing he had the time to lose himself in her body again.

They took no time at all getting dressed, repacking their items, checking out of the hotel and heading to the airport. Only an hour and half passed from the time they received the phone call about Cody until the time they sat in the airplane ready to leave Paris.

Randi felt sick to her stomach at the thought of her baby brother being held against his will; the idea that someone hated her enough to involve Cody was more than she could take; she could not stop crying.

Erik held her while they took off and once the airplane was airborne, he ordered her a drink to settle her nerves and make her drowsy. He intended to take care of her as best he could before they arrived in Denver and faced the situation at home. Erik had learned to respect the sheriff and his deputies as well as all of the officials he had come in contact with over the past weeks. He had all confidence in them and their ability to find Cody before the situation escalated.

But that didn't make the uncertainty and helplessness any easier to accept.



The flight home seemed to take hours more than it should have and what would have normally been a time to relax was anything but.

The truck had been parked at the airport, so it didn't take long to get on the road headed for the Sheriff Station. As he pulled into the parking lot, Erik lifted a silent prayer to heavens; asking God to protect Cody and bring this madman to justice.

Together, they walked into the Sheriff Station and braced themselves for whatever he had to say. The normally bustling office was quiet and subdued; the sheriff was waiting for them and ushered them quickly to his office.

"No one actually saw the abduction, he was taken during the street festival we always have for Fall Celebration...there were hundreds of people all around but none of them were watching Cody specifically. He attended with his little friend, Trevor Gillis, and they were only supposed to be out until 9:00 pm and then Trevor's dad was going to pick them up at the funny house entrance."

Everything that Sheriff Newcomb was saying was familiar to Randi; Cody had asked to go to the festival weeks ago...he had gone last year and really had a wonderful time - at least she was told that in the letter her mother had sent her. However, with all that had gone on, Randi had urged him not to go...she hadn't flat out told him he could not go, but Cody had known her wishes.

Now she feared she would live to regret having not told him irrefutably that he could not go.

Erik's strong presence beside her was all that kept her from losing her sanity. He listened intently to everything going on around him and even made suggestions to the sheriff. It seemed he had quickly and firmly earned the respect of the sheriff and his men. He came to her and gently wrapped her in his arms, assuring her that all that could be done was being done.

There were few leads and the only communication with the kidnapper was a scraggly note left pinned to Cody's book bag which had been found on the steps of the sheriff's office. Whoever it was; he was sure cocky and arrogant.

"What did the note say?" Erik asked; his arms crossed over his chest and an inquiring look on his face.

Sheriff Newcomb led him over to a crinkly piece of paper that was safely contained within a plastic bag; the writing resembled that of a grade-schooler and Erik found it disturbing to even look at.

"REVENGE IS SWEET.

YOUNG CODY WILL BE QUITE SAFE

AS LONG AS MISS WILLOWS

AND THE MAN KNOWN AS ERIK MARCHAND

LEAVE WILLOWS PEAK RANCH AND NEVER

COME BACK.

I WILL CALL AT EXACTLY 6:00 PM ON SUNDAY NIGHT,

I WILL EXPECT TO SPEAK WITH MISS WILLOWS OR

MR. MARCHAND.

That was all it said.

"We have had the fibers analyzed, and there was a unique set of water particles attached to the fibers. These water fibers are found in only three places in Colorado; all three are here, in and around Rand."

"That means that whomever did this is local...probably someone we know." Erik surmised without being told.

Sheriff Newcomb nodded in agreement. "Unfortunately, there are dozens of buildings along each water source and we can't get a warrant to search any of them until we have more solid evidence pointing toward an individual.

"I don't know if you have heard yet, but Dale Martin was murdered yesterday...his body was so badly beaten that he was almost unrecognizable."

Erik stiffened beside Randi and she suddenly knew who it was that had tried to kill Erik.

"After you gave us his name, we started tailing him, hoping he would lead us to this 'Chief' character. Whoever it is was waiting for him in his home and managed to pulverize him before somehow escaping without my deputies seeing him."

There was nothing to say; not at that moment. Erik was relieved that the animal was dead, but there was a distinct possibility that whoever had killed Dale now had Cody.

"We retrieved a tiny button that was clasped in Dale's hand...he was missing fingers from a previous beating, but he had managed to pull the button off the shirt of his killer. We having it analyzed as we speak...but it could take some time."

Erik had no idea what that meant; he turned the information around in his brain and still could not come up with anything.

"Take Randi home and you two await that phone call; we don't want this man to have any idea that we are close to having his identity."Sheriff Newcomb firmly suggested, "There is a tracer on each phone in your house, don't worry, we'll hear everything you do."

Erik agreed and quickly left the station with Randi. She was distant and thoughtful as he drove them to the ranch. He could feel the distress rolling over her as it seemed to seep from her to him. He felt in his gut that a breakthrough was coming, and coming soon.

* * *

It was almost 6:00 pm, and the dreaded phone call was only minutes away. Standing by the phone with a lost look in her eyes, Randi had hardly spoken since they had gotten off the plane and her color wasn't good; Erik was concerned about what little sleep she'd had, knowing she needed rest.

When it did ring, it was Erik who answered, giving whoever was listening on the other end time to turn on the tracing machines.

"Erik Marchand."

There was a moment of complete silence; a moment when Erik felt a distinct chill run up his spine as the man on the other end took a deep sigh.

"Ahhhh, just the man I wanted to talk to."

Erik listened carefully, paying close attention to the voice. The man was using some sort of voice altering device, but that didn't matter; not to a man used to paying very close attention to detail.

"Don't try to keep me on the line, I know they're listening. I want you and the little whore who's sleeping with you off that property by six o'clock tomorrow night or little Cody will pay the price for your incompetence...am I understood?"

Erik was hardly listening to the man; the fluctuation in his voice was all too familiar. He had said enough in the short time he had been speaking for Erik to identify him. Catching Randi's panicked eyes, he carefully guarded his reaction, not wanting to cause her further pain.

"Understood; I want to speak to Cody."

Erik wanted to hear a few more words before he allowed the man to hang up.

"Cody is a little tied up at the moment and can't make to the phone...but he sends his best. He will be at the school playground tomorrow night at six-thirty...IF you and Randi do as I told you to do."

Before Erik could respond in any way, the line was dead. There was no denying that voice...he had heard it before and sounds and tones were something he never forgot. He quickly dialed the sheriff, and gave the man another name; this one made the hardened lawman go completely silent. Erik heard a deep intake of breath.

"Are you sure, Erik...I mean...how do you know it's him?"

Erik took a deep sigh and thought about the time he had met this man, and wondered how he had never seen it...the pure hatred in his eyes when he looked at Randi.

There was no doubt.

"I've spent a lifetime observing and listening to people; I have trained my ears to hear many different voice fluctuations that aren't normally audible to the average person. I have heard this man speak on a couple of occasions and I noticed the speech patterns that he used on a regular basis..." Erik leveled his troubled eyes on Randi, but soon turned his sensual lips into a smile, "...I can assure you it is he."

Across town, Sheriff Newcomb addressed his deputies as he hung up the phone.

"Calhoun, get me this man's voice on tape so that I can compare the recording tonight with that recording...and I need it yesterday..." he handed the written name to the young man, "...Weitz, go pick up Dr. Vicker; she's the best at dissecting background sounds and pinpointing where a person is when they are calling." The young man moved toward the door, "And Wietz...I need her here yesterday."

As he dismissed the deputies to do his bidding, he pulled his cell phone out, found a number on his stored list, and dialed. After a couple of rings, someone answered.

"Karen, it's Lyle...listen...I need a favor..." the Sheriff paused for a moment as the woman on the other apparently flattered him about something, "...you know I do, or I wouldn't ask."

A few hushed words were exchanged before Sheriff Newcomb cleared his throat and skillfully ended the conversation.

"Weitz is already on his way...thanks...I owe ya." He said, hoping it sounded more harmless than it was meant to be. By the look on his face, the woman apparently said something that had him wishing his shift was over and he was at her place.

He hung up from issuing orders and commands and then left, heading for Willow's Peak Ranch.

As the door opened and Erik and Randi allowed him into their home, he stepped two feet inside the door and turned to them.

"Now, sparing no details, tell me what you know about Van Gables."

TBC


	32. Chapter 32

Two more after this one.

I will be silent for a few weeks (it never seems to be as long as I intend it to be), while I continue writing on my next story.

Anywhoo, here's what's next...

CHAPTER 32

Randi frowned and then stared with horror filled eyes at the Sheriff, hoping he wasn't serious; even though it was obvious to her that he was not.

"He was my father's best friend and was always there for my mother and him" She stated, tears prickling her eyes, "He has always treated me like I was someone special to him."

The Sheriff didn't acknowledge or refute anything, he simply nodded his understanding.

Randi's heart told her this was all some huge mix-up and Van was not responsible for something so heinous; but her head knew that Erik would not make such things up and would not point the accusing finger at an innocent man.

She worried her teeth nervously over her bottom lip; had she been the target the entire time...was Cody paying for her sins? The reality of that thought slammed into her and her breath jammed hard in her throat; how would she ever live with herself if something happened to him?

"Let me tell you a thing or two about your family that may shock you." Lyle offered, his voice lowering to a soothing lull. "Some things I learned by talking to a few of your mom and dad's closet and oldest friends."

The tale was a winding one - giving Randi a bird's eye view of the parents she thought she had known. It began over thirty-five years ago...

_FLASHBACK_

_"Van, I will not do this to Clint...I love him with all my heart. I am going to marry him."_

_Van Gables, high school football star, would settle for no one but Mistianna Tetruaelt at his side. He was the star quarterback and she was the teenage beauty queen...surly she saw the reasoning of it all?_

_They had dated all through high school and Mistianna had even agreed to wear his ring at one time...but it all had ended when Clint Willows had come into the picture. Van hated that twit with a passion. _

_"What can that hayseed give you that I can't...I'll most certainly be invited to join an NFL team within the next couple of years and we'll live the high life?" Van reasoned, making it sound most inviting...at least to his own ears. "You deserve to be draped in diamonds and furs...not trotting around on some horse ranch smelling like the animals themselves."_

_Her slap could be heard all around the county...at least she hoped it could. Her voice was harsh and her eyes were afire with a fury she seldom felt._

_"How dare you speak of Clint in such a way!? He's worked hard like his father and grandfather did, just to make __Willow__'s Peak a main stop for travelers from near and far. He's strong of back and arms from hard work, not some recreational sport that seems to have shriveled your brain and robbed you of your good sense."_

_Even as she spoke them, Misty knew the words were harsh and hurtful, but he just didn't seem to get the message unless she was bluntly honest with him. She never even saw it - his giant fist colliding with the weak spot at the back of her neck; she hit the ground unconscious before she could take a breath._

_The animal that had lain dormant inside Van for so long reared its ugly head that evening. The logical and reasoning side of his brain told him to call for help...get someone out there to help her as soon as possible. But watching her there...helpless and unable to defend even the smallest of advances..._

_...Van did the unthinkable._

_She had resisted his sexual advances many times, refusing to go any further than a chaste kiss or two on a date. Van wanted more...and he always got what he wanted...even if he had to take it by force._

_Afterwards, Van called 911 and got her some help, saying he had come upon a man raping her after beating her...but upon seeing a man of Van's considerable size approaching, the scumbag had run off, leaving Misty lying there, oblivious and damaged. _

_Misty never fully recovered, she was left with crippling nightmares and vision problems; but Clint Willows loved her, and months after high school was over, they married._

_Years later, the terrified eyes that had been innocently walking by but hid behind the bushes when he saw what was happening, finally told the truth about that night. The truth couldn't help Misty Willows any longer, but it could help solve the mystery that surrounded Van Gables. _

_END FLASHBACK_

Randi had been crying since almost the beginning of the story he told, and hearing the tragedy that had been her mother's life made her hurt deep inside.

"Your mother never knew what really happened that night, and Van became the best friend to his enemy just so he could stay close to her. When she married Clint, it set Van off in a big way and his already famous temper apparently went into overdrive."

Randi considered every word with the weight she knew they carried; the man she had trusted all her life; a man who had befriended her father, treated her mother like a queen, and been like a second father to her - was a monster.

"Who was the person who finally came forward with the truth...and why now?"

Erik asked the question, wanting to step into the mind of a person who could watch such a brutal act being committed and then simply hold it within them for thirty some years; he was having a hard time comprehending such cowardice.

Sheriff Newcomb smirked regrettably, "I cannot reveal the name of that person...at their request. I have corroborated their story as best I can...taking into consideration the actions of Mr. Gables that I have observed on occasion, and the testimony of many who have known him for years. I had just started my investigation into him after finding out that your parent's deaths were not accidental, but murder. I hadn't made much headway when these other things started happening."

The tight draw of Erik's shoulders and the scowl on his face all but verbally expressed the thoughts that were filling his head.

"It just seems so cowardly."

Sheriff Newcomb placed a knowing hand upon Erik's shoulder, "Yes, I suppose from where you're standing it does...but I know who I'm referring to; believe me when I say it wasn't an act of cowardice."

Erik chose to believe the opinion of Sheriff Newcomb, finding the man a true warrior for the cause of justice; a good man.

"There's more..." he said, turning to Randi with a speculative look on his face. "...did your dad ever mention something beneath the land the ranch sets on...something that could be termed valuable? Dale mentioned Plutonium."

Curling her brow, Randi tried to remember all the stories her father had told about Willow's Peak and its history. There had been many of them, but one did ring a bell of warning in her head.

"I never head anything about Plutonium, but Dad always joked about there being Uranium supplies under the ranch; something about one of my ancestors discovering it quite by accident during a routine inspection of one of our many cave sites." Randi hadn't believed the story, but she began to wonder as she told the sheriff, "Apparently, if they had known about the Uranium, they would have built mines and the land would have been ruined."

The sheriff's look said that he believed there was truth to the story, and something told Randi he was right.

"I'll bet Van knew about the Uranium; that's why he's so intent on getting his hands on the ranch...and I guarantee that once we get him, he will confess to the murder of your parents, and possibly to the attempted murder of Mr. and Mrs. Wilcox."

Erik eyes went dark, "I suppose there is no way you would let me interrogate him...just for a few minutes?"

Pulling his mouth into an ornery smirk, Sheriff Newcomb entertained the idea, "What did you have in mind?"

Erik snorted, "Let's just say I have a few talents that might come in handy...I have to be in the same room but not really close - I will disguise myself as a guard...because of his superior attitude, he will not even notice me; just get me within fifty feet of him and I'll do the rest."

The sheriff grinned, giving him the look of a predatory wolf, "I have to see this."

"And Sheriff..." Erik said before he could leave the room, "...who's the one person in Gable's life that he has loved and respected most of all, who possibly knew about his darker side, but who is now dead...besides Misty Willows?"

"That's easy...Chase, his son."

Erik remembered Randi mentioning the young man one time; she had expressed sorrow at the boy's death, he had been a close friend.

He hoped it would be enough, "Do you have a picture of him that could be displayed in the room where he will be held?"

Sheriff Newcomb grinned again, leaving little doubt that he was enjoying Erik's way of thinking, "No...but he does, it never leaves his wallet."



The next few hours passed with dreadful slowness as the sheriff went off to join his men in the hunt for Van Gables. Erik paced the floor of the house, forming an alternative method of retrieval and punishment in his mind; one he knew he would never carry through with, but it kept his mind active.

Sheriff Newcomb had instructed them to go back to the ranch in case they were being watched; he didn't want their enemy to know his identity was no longer a mystery to the lawmen that were pursuing him.

Restless energy; Erik hated it. He had never been good at keeping his feral nature contained; the animal side of him that demanded retribution in the sense of an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth. Action had always been his way of taming the beast that pulsed through him; action and consequences.

Outside, the skies clouded over and the wind picked up; a storm was brewing as quickly and ferociously out there as it was in his gut. Although he could feel the swell of it building in his deeper parts, Erik's innermost soul told him Cody was going to be fine and that this would all work out in the long run.

Randi had gone into the bathroom to take a shower and probably cry herself into another bout of sickness, but Erik knew she needed some time by herself...call it his Phantom intuition. He did his best to rustle up some food, although he would be the first to admit he was not the best in the kitchen.

He managed to put together some club sandwiches with a wonderful invention called Doritos®. When she emerged from the shower, refreshed but exhausted, Erik sat her down in the chair, massaged her shoulders, and served her the dinner he had made.

"You need to eat and keep up your strength so that when you see Cody again, you will have the strength to lift him into your arms and never let him go."

Randi gave a weak, but heartfelt smile toward Erik, realizing he was doing all he could to shelter her from the reality that might end with Cody being hurt...or worse.

"He'll be fine, Love; he'll be back with us in not time."

Randi cocked her head to the side and stared at Erik for a few seconds. "Sometimes I swear you can read my mind."

Erik smirked lovingly and shook his head, "No, I can't read your mind, but I can see the emotion circling in your eyes and the lines of worry that crease your forehead...it is quite easy to deduce what one is thinking when the telltale signs are there."

"My mother used to always swear that Dad could read her mind...I suppose it's just a woman thing."

The phone rang; neither one of them registered the certainty of it until it rang again. Erik grabbed it up and answered with a fretful tone.

It was Sheriff Newcomb.

"Erik...we have him...Cody is fine."

And Randi cried again.

TBC


	33. Chapter 33

Almost done...

CHAPTER 33

How would you handle it if someone you knew had been dead for ten years suddenly started talking to you? Would the idea of a picture saying something to you frighten you to the point that your tongue froze to the top of your mouth and you could not fight the urge to urinate on yourself?

Erik hadn't really known what to expect from this monster parading as a man. Did he have enough of a conscience to be bothered by paranormal things happening around him? Erik had heard Randi tell of her fatherly affection for the man; but Erik hadn't sensed anything in him that would indicate he felt fatherly toward her. He may have agreed to a future relationship between his son and Randi, but it was clear to Erik that in this present age, Van Gables was as infatuated with the daughter of Misty Willows as he had been with Misty herself.

Erik stood at the door to the small interrogation room, dressed to the last detail like one of Sheriff Newcomb's deputies. His back was to the prisoner, but that made no difference to him...he could still accomplish what he had set out to do.

"You can't deny the kidnapping Mr. Gables, the boy was found gagged and bound to a chair in your warehouse...the one you thought no one could trace back to you."

Blank and eerie...that was the only way to describe Van's eyes at that moment. He had never even considered the possibility that these simpletons could actually catch him, let alone detain him; he was quite unprepared for the shock of it all.

_"You're a murderer...and I would be ashamed to call you father!"_

Suddenly, he flew out of his seat and clawed at his back pocket; the sheriff also stood up, making sure the man was not on the attack. Van Gables finally pulled his wallet from its resting place and threw it on the table.

"Did you hear that?" He asked; his eyes crazy and scattered.

Of course he had heard it, "No; I heard nothing...sit down Mr. Gables."

He wasn't listening, which was exactly what Sheriff Newcomb and Erik had hoped for.

_"Murderer and rapist!!"_

Walking around the small room as though listening for whispers from the walls, Gables reminded Erik of a scared cat; his eyes were crazed and his hair appeared to be standing on edge. He turned back to the sheriff and cocked his head to the side, terror rampant behind the cold blue of his eyes. He stopped at the table and gingerly withdrew Chase's picture from the folds.

"Can't you hear him...Chase...he's talking to me..." Gables continued to circle the room, paying no attention to those who were with him; the only one he acknowledged was the sheriff.

Tears began streaming down his face...

_"Murder, rape, and kidnapping; I'm beginning to think you had me killed so you could have Miranda all to yourself."_

The voice was barely above a whisper; raspy and chillingly eerie. If the sheriff hadn't known it was Erik, he would have been running for whatever haven he could find.

"No!" Gables cried, "I would never hurt you! Chase, you are my child, my flesh and blood; the only wonderful thing that came out of my dutiful and calculated marriage."

_"LIAR!"_

Gables hurled himself against the wall; fearing the anger behind the voice.

"Chase! Don't doubt my love for you..." he was driveling now, embarrassing himself, "...Miranda is just a prize I wish to claim; I would have never have taken her from you...and Cody..." Gables swallowed hard, fearing the ghost of his son would see the truth hidden in the recesses of his mind, "...I never intended to hurt him, I just wanted to scare him a little."

_"What of his parents...and the Wilcox's; did you just want to scare them too?"_

There was sarcasm flying from each word as the disembodied voice flung hatred at Gables. It only took one look into his eyes for the sheriff to know that a full confession was coming. Fury was banked in those chilling eyes, and his upper lip snarled back, revealing what could have easily been fangs.

"That fool Clint never knew what he had...never took full advantage of what he possessed. He refused to dig for the Uranium that's buried under that ridiculous ranch and he was killing Misty. Her beauty was meant to grace my side, not be tied to that two-bit cowboy and that wretched ranch. The Wilcox's were just to prove a point...nothing more."

A wicked laugh filled the room; the picture flew from Gables hands and landed face side up on the floor, the laugh still ringing from wall to wall.

_"So...in killing Clint, you murdered the only woman you have ever loved." _

His face softened as he thought of Misty; pools of something...regret?...swirled in his eyes.

"It was a mercy killing...he was killing her slowly and surely....I just ended her suffering."

Silence followed, ticking as loudly as a clock. Gables lowered himself to the floor, his back sliding down the wall as though all the world was on his shoulders.

_"Whatever you call it...I call it MURDER!"_

The voice faded as the last word was shouted. Gables shoulders shook with the force of his weeping, and he put up no fight as two guards cuffed and shackled him, then led him from the room.

"Don't leave me, Chase...I'll be all alone."

The sheriff stopped them before Gables could completely leave the room.

"Why kill Dale...what was the purpose?"

Gables finally lifted his head and looked the sheriff right in the eye; his stare was steady, but the evil lurking there made Lyle's skin crawl.

The smile that curved his lips held no tenderness, only loathing and superiority.

"He was nothing but a maggot...and I squash maggots."

"Not any more you don't." A chill made it quite easily up his spine as the sheriff watched the monster be led away. "What a wretched human being that man is." .

"He's more monster than human...I am thankful that you finally found him." Erik countered, fighting the need to pummel the life from Van Gables.

The sheriff turned to Erik and lifted his hand, "I couldn't have done it without you...I could use a man like you."

Erik glanced over at Randi and Cody, who had just come in the door to pick him up.

"No thanks Sheriff, I have other things to focus on right now."

They shared a laugh and then Lyle gave Erik's shoulder a tight squeeze of affection.

"Well, if you change your mind, you know where to find me."



As soon as they entered the quite cab of the pick-up to head home, Cody crawled into Erik's lap, wrapped his arms around his neck, and sat there...glued to him as though his life depended on it.

Erik held him, soothing the boys sandy hair and stroking his back in a fatherly manner. Tears glistened in the corners of his eyes as he finally realized that this young boy thought of him as a father figure; someone he could count on for protection and instruction.

Something about that realization terrified him; but at the same time, it grounded him. This is what it would be like to have children of his own, and want them he did. He and Randi had discussed it, and both had agreed to wait a little while before having a baby...but at least he knew, deep in his soul, that he was capable of being what a father needed to be.

Cody didn't stir until they made it back to ranch, then Erik carried him into the house and placed him gently on his bed. Somewhere between a boy and man, Cody didn't fully express his emotions like he would have a couple of years ago, but Erik could see the swelling of love in the boys eyes.

"I'm glad you're safe, Big Guy, it was the worst time of my life when we discovered you had been taken...believe that."

Cody nodded but didn't risk saying anything.

Erik stood to leave, but a small hand grasped his, pulling him gently back to Cody's side.

"Thank you for being there..." his sleepy eyes were bright, but Erik could see the need to rest taking over, "...you're my brother now...right?"

A big ball of emotion sat firmly in his throat, and Erik knew his own string was stretched pretty tight and at any moment he was likely to snap and start balling like a baby.

"Yes, I'm your big brother, and I'm going to do my best to protect you from the bad things of the world, but I also want you to learn how to protect yourself." Erik watched as his eyes grew wider, "We'll start on that another day, for now...sleep."

And Cody slept.

TBC


	34. Chapter 34

Here it is, I hope you enjoyed this story. My next one is in the making. A modern-day Erik/Christine tentatively named, "Gently into Morning".

CHAPTER 34

Randi was stunned.

"But you can't be serious...we were doing everything to prevent this."

Dr. Harper lifted her brow, gracing Randi with one of those famous doctor,  
you-were-doing-everything-possible-except-refraining, looks.

Randi had the good graces to lower her eyes in mock shame, "I know...I know." She mulled, "But in all fairness, you have seen my husband...I can't keep my hands off him let alone not make love with him every chance I can."

Dr. Harper smiled, very much aware of the handsome man that Randi had married. "Then don't sit there fussing over the consequences."

"You're sure, absolutely certain that I'm not just suffering from a bad case of gas or something?"

The silly lift in her voice at the end of that sentence told the doctor that Randi knew she was grasping for straws.

However, Dr. Harper couldn't help but chuckle and shake her head.

"I'm certain."

Randi sighed, lifting her shoulders for emphasis, "Well, Okay, if you insist...now, are you going to tell him or am I? We've only been married for eight months and we had agreed to wait a few years before starting a family."

Crossing her arms over her chest, the doctor once again lifted that annoying brow.

"Okay...I'll tell him...gosh, make me do everything."

Randi smiled as she was mumbling, and stepped down off the table to dress herself; Dr. Harper left the room with a smile on her face and a laugh in her heart.

"This was supposed to be a routine visit, I was only having a few problems with nausea...but nothing I couldn't handle...now this."

She pulled her shirt over her head and thrust her arms through the sleeves; angry at herself for allowing this to happen...then...a light came on and her face softened. Her hand went to the tiny bulge that rested just beneath her belly button.

A baby...Erik's and her's...the wonder of it was suddenly too much to fathom and she sat down in the chair beside the exam table; her hand tenderly rubbing the slight swell and loving the microscopic life blooming within her.

A baby; she was suddenly very happy.



Still grasping all that was going on, Randi made her way toward the parking lot where she knew Erik would be waiting to pick her up. He had gotten his driver's license a couple of weeks ago and was not very confident in city traffic, but he insisted on picking her up and taking her to lunch....which was a good thing, because she was suddenly starving.

He was listening to some music; something other than classical and opera for a change, and his gorgeous face lit up when he saw her coming toward the truck. He popped out of the gigantic vehicle and rushed around to open the door for her...a gesture she hoped he never grew tired of doing.

He noticed immediately that she had been crying, but chose to give her time to open up about it; his mind went over the many reasons why she would come out of a doctor's office crying...and none of them were good.

Of course, the fact that he kept looking over at her made her nervous and anxious to tell him her news. She would tell him over dinner...maybe the food would sooth and calm him before she had to rattle him.

"Miranda, is everything alright?" He asked, fearing the worst and unable to keep silent any longer.

She simply nodded her head to indicate that all was well; she could feel his apprehensiveness as formidably as she could feel her breath threatening to lodge forever in her throat.

"Are you hungry?" He asked.

Again, she nodded, fearing that if she opened her mouth, words would spew forth and ruin her surprise.

He was beginning to feel as though he was having a conversation with himself; but sensed she had something to say and would find the right time to say it.

"You want seafood...you said so earlier; is that still what you want?"

To that she wrinkled her nose and shook her head in an emphatic attempt to make him understand that she no longer wanted seafood.

"I take that as a 'no'...okay, what would you like?"

"Turn left on 5th street, there's an Italian food restaurant that serves the best pizza you have ever tasted. It's named 'Pino's Italian Cuisine'...I want that pizza."

"Your wish is my command, my lady."

The restaurant was a quaint little hole in the wall, but Erik found it quite charming. They were seated in a quiet corner, and the lighting was low. It was a romantic setting, and Erik wondered what it was she had to tell him.

"How do you like the name Portia Olivia?"

Erik pursed his lips and lifted a brow, "What are we naming...a dog, a horse..."

She rolled her eyes, "...just tell me what you think of the name."

Erik's eyes softened at her insistence, and the slight quake in her voice.

"I think it's beautiful." His smile said he was being truthful.

She smiled, tears swelling in her eyes, "I'm glad...of course, Dalton Blake might be more appropriate."

Erik meant her eyes, and saw there the truth of what she was trying to say.

"Were going to have a baby, aren't we?"

She allowed the tears to flow without constraint at that point, and all Erik could get out of her was a nod.

He stood and engulfed her in his arms, holding her off the floor as he hugged her.

"I was so afraid you would be upset...we had agreed to wait." She said as he slowly swirled her.

"Ahhh, Love...It's not like you did this all by yourself...I couldn't be happier!"

Once the patrons at the restaurant learned what was going on, Erik and Randi were the center of attention. Randi stole a glance at Erik as he greeted people he had never meant before and a swell of pride filled her heart. He had come such a long way in a few short weeks. She couldn't believe that her life had changed completely since he literally dropped into it.

He genuinely looked happy at the prospect of being a father; Randi allowed the warmth of that to sink into her. She felt another rush of tears building at the corners of her eyes and frustration mounted; she had never been this prone to crying until recently...probably when her hormones went on swing shift.

Erik caught her gaze and smiled mischievously, seemingly unaware of the eyes that watched him. Randi was glowing, and he wanted to capture and store the whole of her look in his memory.

He had never thought, after the struggles of his life, that he would have the blessed opportunity to be a father, but God had granted him the chance. What would a child of his and Randi's be like? Look like? He could picture attributes in his head and he prayed that he or she would look like Randi.

He moved through the people that had gathered to congratulate them, making his way to his bride's side. He glided into his arms, wrapping hers around his waist and held him for a few seconds before walking with him to the truck.

"I don't thing I've ever seen you look more beautiful than you do now; ever since you told me you were expecting. I've noticed the glow in your skin and the tenderness in your eyes..." he turned her in his arms just before lifting her into the truck; his hands reached up and framed her face, "...I love you, Miranda Christine Marchand, in this time, and the next."



It was only a few short months later that Dalton Blake Marchand made his noisy entrance into the world. After a few months, his proud father realized how much his son resembled him; dark hair with just a hint of his mother's red, dancing green eyes, and a smile that could charm the stripes off a zebra. He was truly handsome...and Erik got an idea of what he might have looked like before he was scarred. Dalton was his father, through and through; aloof, yet charmingly so; brilliant in scholastics and other interest; and reserved in his mannerisms.

It would be three more years before Dalton would be joined by his brother, Damien Brent Marchand; he would also carry his father's coloring, with a little more reddish tint to his hair. People would say he was the most like his mother in temperament; always there for a quick and easy smile or a word of encouragement. He would be outgoing and easy to get along with.

As proud as he was of his sons, though; it would be Portia Olivia who would truly capture Erik's heart. For as soon as she would make her appearance into his world, she would have him around her finger. She would be the very picture of her mother in just about every way; but she would have her father's brilliance.

Willow's Peak opened up again, soon after Randi got settled with Dalton; Erik never allowed the digging to happen, keeping the scavengers off the land much like Clint had done and the other men in the family. There was no proof that the Uranium even existed; nothing but some stories passed down from generation to generation. Thankfully, that didn't make the Powers That Be eager to tear the land to pieces.

Years down the road, Erik would look back on his life and see that he had truly been a man out of time; and it had taken a leap of faith and friendship with people he would have otherwise never meant, to make his life worth living. He would never stop giving thanks to God for the opportunities that were granted him; and several years into the future, his music would be his gift to God. Many of his songs would become immortalized into church music and sung Sunday after Sunday in places of worship across the nation.

THE END

TBC


End file.
